Old Took Tales
by amnesia-machine
Summary: Gerontius Took once told his granddaughter something very important. "A story does not always end in a happily ever after. Happy endings are not a requirement for fairy tales. Never," he said, "never make the mistake of falling in love with the hero." [fem!Bilbo genderswap]
1. Over and Under Mountains

Chapter One – Over and Under Mountains

* * *

Happy endings are not a requirement for fairy tales.

Old Took had told her that once when she was very young. The story of his great hero and the beast ended in tragedy. The white knight slew the beast, and the beast killed him in turn. The day was saved at a great cost. Bilba had cried on his lap, demanding a change.

What he told her then was wisdom she was too young yet to understand.

"A story does not always end in a happily ever after. Happy endings are not a requirement for fairy tales."

Bilba had sniffled and buried her head into his chest.

"We root for the hero, we follow and trust them with our lives. In the end the hero will always save the day for us, but sometimes he cannot save himself. That is why we always support him, but we never fall in love. For heroes rescue princesses and queens. They slay dragons. But we, Bilba, my dear, we are his warriors. We are following him on his quest, from start to end. If the story is to be changed, it is you who must do the changing."

* * *

Some hero her great leader was turning out to be. Bilba was sure they'd had at least one spat a day since they'd met. The rude git. Not that she hadn't started a number of those herself. But he started it all by insulting her in her own doorway. A grocer, honestly!

Bilba Baggins may have had her eccentricities, but she was a most respectable hobbit, thank you very much. She may have been an old spinster nearly out of her childbearing years, but it's not as if she wanted to marry or have any children. She had always had better things to do than worry about the hobbit men around town, or whether or not she'd have a child to take over her estate someday. She had more than a dozen cousins ready to fight for that.

She was her own woman and master of Bag End. Save her life alone, she was highly regarded. She was a picture of respectability.

Or, she had been. That was completely shot now, she feared.

She had been snotted on by a troll, made a fool of herself in front of Lord Elrond (oh, her mother would be both amused and mortified), and she smelled like the back end of a pony on her best days and somehow managed to look twice as bad.

She wanted to die.

Oh, if her father could see her now.

She took a deep breath and continued on into the mountains.

The Misty Mountains brought awe to Bilba's eyes. They were huge from a distance, but on top of them they were terrifying and fantastic.

Thorin glared back from the front of the line. She was lagging again. "Halfling! Keep up!"

Bilba grimaced at Thorin's forth snip at her that morning. He had been in a particularly bad mood. First he drags her out of bed by the shoulder, demanding she hurry up as they were leaving immediately, then he yelled at her every so often to stay close. She wasn't even lagging that far behind, and she was with Bofur most of the time at that. Infuriating dwarf!

But she was trying a new tactic of dealing with their leader. Normally she would have snapped right back. She would have told him to keep his eyes on the path, not on her, as he was the one to get lost twice on the way to her home, once leaving the Shire, and countless times in Rivendell. She even had to walk him back to the company once, and he grumbled the entire way about elvish labyrinths. Today she decided to just shut up and hope that maybe he would get tired of baiting her into fights.

"Is he always so angry?"

Bofur shrugged. "That's dealing with the elves, lass. He's not fond of them."

"He doesn't seem fond of anything."

He laughed. "Ah, lass, if only you knew. You've both gotten off on a bad foot this journey. He's not so bad once you get to know him."

She nodded but hardly believed him. "If you say so."

Bilba hung back again. True, Thorin could be less than angry sometimes. He had on occasion actually seemed nice. Or maybe she was just imagining it. After all she'd been taught to find the good in everyone. She could even force herself to think well of Lobelia on occasion. Rare occasion.

There were the nights she'd catch his stare only to have him scowl at her, but sometimes she'd get a quiet nod. Sometimes she'd wake in the middle of a chilly night as a blanket was thrown over her and she'd catch his boots retreating. She was sure it had more to do with keeping her from getting sick and slowing them down, than any form of caring.

Oh, Thorin was frustrating, and it just made her more determined to prove him wrong. She could be useful. She could help. She just cared, really, what he thought of her, and wasn't that completely silly. He was the only one so far who had not even tried to be friendly with her.

She wasn't sure what she'd done to earn his ire.

_You did elude that you would give him a black eye at your first meeting_, her brain supplied. Yeah, that had been a stupid thing to do.

"What's your weapon of choice," he asked in that haughty voice of his. "Ax or sword?"

"Well, I have blacked a few eyes in my day."

_And you nearly got him and the company eaten by trolls._ But she had helped save them in the end... that had to count for something.

She sighed and trudged on, a fat rain drop hitting her on the nose.

"Halfling! Move up! I'm sick of you lagging behind!"

She ground her teeth. "Stop watching me and watch the path before you fall off!"

So much for her new tactic. She huffed and pushed herself up by Fili and Kili who were whistling some lighthearted tune.

Dwalin laughed behind Thorin and pushed his shoulder forward and spoke where only they could hear. "Aye, you stare at her enough at camp. Best to not get distracted and walk over the ledge."

"Ridiculous," he spat.

Dwalin smirked. "You think I'm the only one whose noticed?"

Thorin swung an elbow and caught him in the ribs. "It is my job as leader of this company to keep and eye on all its members. I can hardly help that the hobbit needs the most watching after. She has a penchant for falling into trouble."

Dwalin snorted. "More than your nephews? It's worse than I thought."

"You sound like an idiot."

He shook his head. "Well, then that's two of us."

* * *

In the last two hours the torrent of rain had threatened to sweep her over the edge of the mountain three times. Dori had tutted at her and told her she ought to get a pair of boots. Then there was the thunder. It had made her jump clear out of her skin twice. And she isn't proud of it, but she may have wet herself just a tiny bit, because, dear Mother, there were stone giants. In this great wide world there were _stone giants_!

Bilba wished for her arm chair and her books and, blast, she'd even take Lobelia over this. She never thought she'd die because of a giant hurtling boulders at her.

They rose up out of the mountains themselves.

Everything in her froze at the sight of one mountain falling towards her. She couldn't even process what was happening. She registered the deafening sounds of one mountain crashing into another, but she couldn't comprehend what she was hearing. The rain had washed her feet out from under her and she was left clawing the cliff face.

Her mind carefully went blank and she focused solely on the feeling of stone under her fingers, under her nails. The breaking and biting of her skin.

She would recall nothing of dangling over the edge, save for trying to grip the mountain side.

Bofur and Ori lunged for her but it was Thorin who grabbed her. It was Thorin who jumped over the ledge to grab her and drag her back up.

At the sight of his nephew's near death Thorin's body went cold. His blood was already ice when he heard Bofur's panic. "Where's Bilba!?"

She was slipping

She was falling.

He jumped.

When Bilba found her feet back on the mountain side she wanted to collapse, but Bofur held her upright. Dwalin smiled, "I thought we'd lost our burglar."

"She is a fool and a danger to herself. She should not have come," he snapped. Instead of anger her heart sunk. He could have let her fall, but he saved her just to berate her once more. She thought her heart could sink no lower but Thorin spoke again and it was like venom in her veins. "She has no place amongst us."

After that she kept her eyes down and kept close to the rear, but not so far as to get another lashing. Soon enough they found a dry cave, and she thanked the Mother for small mercies.

She didn't speak during their meager dinner, nor when Oin pulled her aside and bandaged her dirty and bloodied fingers. She twisted her hands in her skirt and sat far from the company and watched the rain.

"Bofur, you take first watch."

"Aye."

Bilba sighed and shifted when Bofur came over and laid a hand on her arm. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't pay any mind to what Thorin said," he watched her fidget. "He didn't mean all that." She just nodded and left to set up her bed roll for the night. Of course she'd nearly stumble into Thorin in the process. She went ridged and he stepped around her.

"Thank you for saving me," she said as he stepped by.

He sighed. Aulë, why was she doing this? He very nearly wanted to say "You're welcome," or something else to forget the fact that he jumped over the side of the cliff without thinking. But instead he looked down at her bandaged fingers. "Be more careful. You nearly got yourself killed with your clumsiness."

She winced. Some Took part of her wanted say something back. Anything. But it was only a very small part. And she was a Baggins after all.

* * *

She laid on her side quietly rolling the words back and forth in her head.

Thorin was right, of course. She shouldn't be here. What place did she have? She was here but by Gandalf's wishes. A misplaced hobbit among dwarves and far from green grasses and rolling hills. Her heart was a stone in her chest when she stood up without a sound. Like a thief in the night. She would have laughed had she not been so close to crying.

For all they fought she wasn't sure why she cared so much about what Thorin thought of her. At least she thought she had some place here, if even as a hired burglar.

Perhaps she could find a place in Rivendell, at least for a while. Somewhere in the back of her mind she didn't even think she would find a place if she returned to the Shire. She would have a home, but not a place. Not anymore.

She'd been lying to herself ever since she started playing the role of Respectable Miss Baggins. She wasn't, and this whole journey was just an excuse to get away from it. And all it did was solidify that she was just as wild as she was when she was a girl. Covered in dirt and breaking the rules. She'd be looked down at for the rest of her life, and would only be saved from mocking by her money and her Took cousins.

She pulled her pack on as silently as she could. She'd been fooling herself all along, it seemed. She had no right to be on this adventure. She'd have been gone too, down the path, had Bofur not caught her and pleaded for her to stay.

"Where are you going?" He was up and on her in an instant.

"Back to Rivendell, I suppose."

"But you can't leave, lass. You're on of us."

She knew the tears in her throat could be heard as she spoke. "I'm not though, am I? You heard Thorin. I have no place here. All I've done is get into trouble or manage to offend people. And he nearly fell, trying to save me," she threw a hand back towards the cave. "He's right to say I have no place here."

"Shh," he said, trying to get her to sit down and think it through. She couldn't just up and leave. They were friends now, weren't they? "You're homesick, and feeling a bit lonely. It's okay. I understand."

She sucked in a breath. "I can't. I just can't. He's right. I don't know what I was thinking coming along."

"Bilba..."

"You're all used this, this being on the road. I keep thinking of home and I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry."

Bofur tried his best to smile for her. He did. "At least wait until morning when it's light and the rain's stopped."

Thorin watched from across the cave. It was good she left. She deserved to be home among her own kind. Safe. He'd wanted to send her back into her door before they ever left the the front gate.

A woman should never be so endangered. He still intended to have words with the wizard. He had tried many times, only to be brushed off. Why would he ever risk her safety in this way? Bilba should be home and treasured, not damp and in peril. Not manhandled by trolls or run down by wargs. Everything in him wanted to take her back himself, or divide the group and have her escorted. His nephews would do well. And afterward they would continue to Ered Luin, safe with their mother...

Still, something in his chest clenched. What he said on the ledge had certainly not been his proudest moment. No, it was designed to hurt, meant to drive a spike into her.

He had watched her throughout their journey. It was his job as the leader, he told himself. And he saw her trying to make a place for herself. Trying to belong. It was easy to know where to strike to cause the most pain.

Oddly, he think he's grown fond of her. All the more reason to see her gone.

"I'll take you back," Bofur offered.

"No, you need to stay. You have a family to watch out for... If I go now it'll keep everyone from arguing about it one way or the other. It's better this way."

He was reaching out to hug her when the blue light caught his eye. "What's that?"

But then the floor hitched, and they found themselves falling into darkness.

* * *

In those tunnels Bilba thought of home. She could leave, she could try to make it out and go home. But her heart rebelled at the thought. That wasn't right. She couldn't just turn back. Not now. She couldn't leave her friends in a place like this. With goblins and who knew what else.

Bofur always had a smile for her and shared his stories. Bombur, quite though he was, always made conversation as she helped him with the cooking. He was a jolly man, who, like his brother, quickly befriended her.

Ori liked to talk about history and books with her, and she often found him writing down bits of information in his notebooks, or sketching something or other. He was sweet as a lamb.

And the boys often flanked her as they road and laughed about things with her. Fili and Kili sang ridiculous songs and tried to either pull pranks on her, or involve her in pranks on others. They reminded her of her Took cousins. She'd unintentionally started to mother after the both of them, worrying over minor cuts and tears in their shirts.

They were her friends. Every one of them, even Thorin.

She sighed.

It wasn't just a sense of duty, she cared about them all. About their safety and happiness. They couldn't just turn back at the hard part and go home.

She pulled out her blade and in the fading blue light she caught the glimmer of something golden in the dark.

* * *

"We hates it forever!" It echoed behind her as Bilba sprinted from the cave and down the mountain side. She prayed that the wretched creature she had found wouldn't dare come into the light.

The world was bleeding gray as she stumbled on the leveling ground. She picked up the sounds of an argument and she leaned against a tree to catch her breath.

"I'll tell you what happened!" Thorin shouted. "Miss Baggins saw her chance and she took it. She has gone home, where she should have stayed, wizard! She has longed for nothing but her hearth and books since first she stepped foot out of her door. We will not be seeing her again." And that was it. She had fought her way to the surface, outwitted an unnameable creature, and here she was, being berated when she could very well be dead. "What sort of fool are you, Gandalf?" She must have imagined the pain she was hearing in his words, but Thorin knew it was there even if he didn't know why. It hurt, because in all likelihood she was dead right now. Dead in some forgotten corner. And they could not return for her.

"But Nori saw her fall! We have to go back!" That was Kili's voice.

Fili grabbed him by the arm, ready to go back up to the mountain. "We'll go search."

"Us too," Bofur said, grabbing his brother and cousin by the shoulder.

Before anyone else could voice one way or another Thorin snapped, "No! We will have an army of goblins on us before nightfall. We have to move!"

"But Bilba," Fili started. And, damn, she could hear the hurt in his voice.

"I'm fine," she finally slipped off her ring and stepped from behind the tree. "I'm okay." She watched a wave of relief wash over the company. It took all her strength then not to cry for the looks on their faces. Whether or not she belonged didn't matter then. She had people who would risk a goblin army to rescue someone who could have been dead, and by all means should have been.

"I've never been so happy to see someone in all my life," Gandalf said, his old shoulders sagging and a smile across his face.

"How did you get out?"

"What happened?"

"What does it matter," Gandalf said. "She's back."

"It matters," and Bilba stood stock still in Thorin's gaze. "Why did you come back?"

She held herself as strong as she could, which right now was surprisingly so. "I know what you must think of me. I'm small, and weak. I have more than once needed saving. And you're right that I miss my books and my garden. That's home for me. Before this my home was always my place. That's why I came back. You don't have one. A home. It was stolen, but I will help you get it back if I can. If I can get you home, then well, that's what I'll do. I'll take you home."

She meant it with all her heart.

But there was no time then to speak when not goblins but orcs set on them. They were driven up into the trees with wargs tearing at their roots. Fifteen birds in five fir trees. The sheer force of the beasts had them toppling one by one until they hung out over a drop to their death.

A great white beast, for that is all Bilba could call him, said something rough in his mess of a language and she watched Thorin rise up and run to his own death. She heard Dwalin cry out when Thorin was thrown by the jaws of warg. She heard Balin, Fili and Kili scream. She heard them all somewhere in the back of her head as the blood pounded in her ears and she followed Thorin. She ran and let loose a battle cry that would have made Bullroarer Took proud. She felt the pop and the rush and the orc's black blood seeping through the front of her shirt.

She swung blindly at the white warg. All her mind could say was "Not him. You can not take him. This quest is nothing without him." Still, it could very well of been shouted at the tops of her lungs for all the fear in her tiny frame. The fight was a rush, as others clawed their way from the tree and dove onto the orcs. It felt like only a moment had past between Thorin's fall and the white warg pushing her back. When had she fallen? She scrambled backwards and everything moved too quickly around her. There was an awful screeching and she was flying in the dark, screaming orcs and wargs left far behind her.

The world stood still to compensate, it seemed, when they were placed down miles away. Bilba stood back as the dwarves rushed to their leader's side. And she prayed to the Mother he was alright. That she'd come in time. An hour passed in the minute that the wizard leaned over Thorin and spoke in an ancient tongue.

She heard him croak something and Gandalf reply, "It's alright. Bilba is quite safe."

Dwalin was hauling Thorin to his feet and she nearly rushed to him when he stumbled, but his glare froze her feet to the stone, her smile falling to a frown.

"You nearly got yourself killed! What were you thinking?" If Thorin heard the break in his own voice it did not stop him. If anyone heard, they did not judge. "Did I not say you would not survive in the wild? That you should go home? That you have no place here?"

Bilba didn't bite her lip, but she could not hold up her head and hear this. She could not keep up the courage Belladonna had given her, nor the strength Bungo had taught her. Instead she nearly stepped away.

The embrace was a shock to her system. Arms tight around her and her head forced to tilt up over Thorin's shoulder and into his neck. The smell of blood and sweat filled her. "I have never be so wrong in all my life." It was softly spoken against her hair. He held her for what was probably too long to be respectable, but neither cared. He was alive. That was all Bilba cared about in the moment. Not his kind words, nor his warm embrace. He was alive, and she would damn well not let him go until she was sure he was breathing and real.

But, Thorin was equally worried that he was dreaming that she was safe and breathing. He lost consciousness, but not before he saw her standing over him, sword in hand, with Azog bearing down on her.

"I am sorry I ever doubted you," he whispered.

He held her away to look her over. By what miracle she escaped unscathed he did not know, but he silently blessed the Maker.

"I would have doubted me too," she said. He could only smile and shake his head for her nonsense. "I'm a coward. I'm not a hero."

"Today you are," he said, and nearly hugged her again, but just above her shoulder he saw it. She turned and followed his gaze.

"Is that?"

Even Bilba had to take a deep breath. "Our home," Thorin said, wrapping an arm around her and looking down to see her face filled with wonder at the sight on the horizon.

Erebor.

"I promise you," she whispered. "I promise I'll do everything I can to get you there."


	2. Flowers in Her Hair

Chapter Two – Flowers in Her Hair

* * *

The decent from the Carrock was hellish. Her actions against the orcs were swimming in her head, and she could hardly focus as it were before the awful winds. She stumbled twice on the narrow steps only to be caught by the arm by Dori. "It's alright, Miss Bilba. We'll be on the ground soon enough and then you can rest."

She nodded.

A rest sounded nice.

Thorin needed it more than anyone. She had tried to convince him to rest there on the top of the Carrock but no. He simply would not, the insufferable idiot. He was hurt!

Soon enough they finally reached the ground and crowded around the river. Oin forced Thorin to sit by the water side and washed the cuts on his face.

"Off with the shirt, lad. I need to see those ribs."

Bilba hovered nearby watching. Thorin winced as he lifted his arms, and Bilba grimaced. She could already see the bruises. Oin frowned and pulled the armor and shirts the rest of the way over Thorin's head. Bilba thought she'd be sick. She must have gagged because they both turned to look at her. "Ah, lass you sit too. I need to look you over."

"I'm fi-fine," she managed. She truly was besides a small cut on her hand. She was just... shaken now that it had all set in.

Oin just nodded and pointed to the ground. She eased herself down, eyes still ghosting over the reds and blues of Thorin's body. She could see punctures as Oin washed away the blood. She drew up her knees. "I'm sorry," she finally muttered. "I should have gotten there faster."

"I could ask no more. You saved my life." He looked at her with such soft eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of it, really. "Were you injured?"

"No."

"You're pale," he noted. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Just a bit rattled." She turned her hands over, looking at the cut she got when she dove on that orc and caught a jagged bit of armor. "I've never killed anything before."

Thorin bit back a noise as Oin bound his ribs. The deaf older dwarf hadn't caught a word of their conversation. He sat back and turned to Bilba. "Your turn, girl. I know you must have gotten knocked around."

She held out her hand. "Just a little cut."

Oin gave it a quick look over. "Neither of you go anywhere. I'm going to go mix up something for you both. We don't need infections."

Bilba took back her hand and cradled it in her lap.

"I'm sorry," Thorin said.

She looked up as he was forcing himself to scoot closer. "It's fine. You're the one hurt."

He nodded. "Still, you put yourself in danger for me. I'm not so proud that I don't realize I have been harsh to you. I had my reasons, as foolish as they may seem."

"Hm?"

"Among my people there are very few woman. It would be unspeakable to allow one into such dangers as you have seen. I still believe you should have stayed home."

"Well it's good I didn't. I can decide for myself whether or not I can handle some trouble," she crossed her arms and puffed out her chest. That was a damned foolish reason, she had to agree. "I don't need protecting. And anyway," she frowned. "Hobbit-women are just as commonplace as men," Bilba said. "So don't let that worry you about me."

"There is nothing commonplace about you, Bilba Baggins. And if you had not come I could have died."

She deflated a bit and smiled. "I'm not deserving of such a compliment. I just ran in without thinking. I didn't... I couldn't see you hurt."

"And still it was you who saved me from an enemy who has haunted me since long before you were even born." He bowed his head to her. "The Line of Durin are forever at your service, Miss Baggins."

"Thank you, Thorin. I remain at yours."

* * *

Gandalf led them all to a house down the river. Bilba had complained that she wanted to take a bath at least, but Gandalf just smiled and promised the river would be close enough for that later. "The orcs may pick up our trail if we linger too long, Bilba. And if our host is generous enough you may be able to have a hot bath."

That sounded lovely. And she didn't fancy any more orcs on this quest, thank you.

Fili and Kili flanked her as they walked, and Thorin stayed not far ahead, listening in as they spoke.

"We didn't know you had it in you, Bilba. An orc and a warg!"

"Yes, well, it had to be done."

Fili beamed. "You stood up to Azog though! Thorin's told me stories about him since I was little to scare me. It used to give Kili nightmares."

"Did not!"

"Mama," his brother mocked. "I dreamed about the white monster again. I wet the bed. Weh."

"Shut up! I was five years old." Kili turned red and glowered at him.

Bilba laughed, and Thorin smiled.

"Well, I used to have nightmares about wolves that woke me up in tears all the way up until I came of age," Bilba said trying to calm Kili down.

"Still, seeing you face down a nightmare like that," Kili waved one of his arms around in front of himself, mimicking Bilba's sword. "That was amazing."

"Just imagine if we'd had time to teach you how to use your sword. You could have stabbed him right in his fat head and killed him!"

Bilba snorted. "Yes, after I grew another four or five feet, and climbed on a step ladder. I would do quite well, certainly."

Thorin huffed a laugh ahead of them. "You two can start training her tomorrow then. She needs it."

* * *

The lands turned from grasses to flowers and Bilba felt the pangs of home. Great fields awash in every color. She paused, the urge to pick a few overcoming her. Thorin stalled by her as she smelled something blue before picking it and tucking it into her hair.

He gave her a questioning look and she smiled. "Cornflowers," she said as if it explained everything. Thorin just shook his head with a small laugh and continued on.

Bilba just shrugged. She wondered if something had changed between them. He was certainly much kinder today and she was willing to make all the effort she could to keep it that way as long as she could.

She liked seeing him smile like that, even if it was underneath a pair of black eyes.

Gandalf stopped them a little way from the house and explained how they would proceed.

"We don't want to overwhelm him," he said. "It shall be not too different to our arrival at Bilba's home."

Bilba blinked a few times. "You honestly planned out how to first appear at my house... and you chose to send in Dwalin first?"

"What's wrong me with?"

"You're very, uhm" she gestured to all of him. "Intimidating."

Gandalf gave him a look, and stroked his beard. "I had told Balin to go first. But, no matter. Bilba, Thorin and I will go first. And you will all follow my instructions this time." Beorn, he explained, was a skin changer. "He is a great, tall man, and sometimes a massive black bear. And he is not overly fond of dwarves, but he will not turn us away most likely. You must let me do the talking. Be polite. And we must make it to his home before night falls, or else I fear we may find the bear and not the man."

He introduced them slowly, two at a time, until he had Beorn so enthralled with their tale that he let them stay. "A very good story!" said he in his booming voice. "The best I've heard in a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve supper for the story all the same. Let's have something to eat!" He clapped his hands.

Bilba nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the dogs setting the table and sheep trotting in and serving dinner. Beorn only laughed.

"Aha, is little Bunny frightened?" And he scooped her up and sat her on his shoulder. She sat stock still, scared for a minute as Beorn laughed again. She tried to relax, and the company saw the notes of fear in her eyes and almost reached for their weapons.

Gandalf smiled though, "Please put Bilba down, Beorn. She is not fond of heights, small as she is."

He chuckled and eased her back down to the table. "My apologies."

Bofur grabbed her arm protectively as she sat back in her chair. "Quite alright, Master Beorn. Just- just a bit of a shock."

The company eased up as Beorn, seeming oblivious to what had transpired, began to tell his own stories as they ate.

As the sun set though he grew more quiet until at last he stood from the table. "You are welcome to stay here and rest. I must leave. For your own sake, do not go outside until after the sun has risen. You would do so at great risk."

The dwarves nodded and gave Beorn their thanks as he went outside, but turned to Gandalf once he was gone, the roars of a bear heard in the distance. "The bear," he said. "He can be quite unreasonable."

They listened and remained inside, not even daring to get near the door. They split up to wonder the house. Gandalf poked through a few doors looking for something, "Ah," he turned to the remaining company. "The bath. I'll heat some water."

Bilba helped Gandalf with the water, and let Oin insist that Thorin take the first bath and clean his injuries. Bilba sat around the table with Nori, Bofur, Balin, Dwalin and the boys. Each had their pipes in their hands.

"Are you ever going to tell us how you got out of those Goblin tunnels?" Bofur leaned across the table.

She gave a nervous laugh. "One day."

"One day?" Kili moaned. "Come on. What better time than now?"

Dwalin huffed. "The lass'll tell us when she's ready."

"Well then," Fili said. "You'll have to tell us another story. Kili told me how you were telling one to him in Rivendell. It's hardly fair we don't all get to hear." He sat back and crossed his arms waiting.

"Fine, fine," Bilba said. "Oh what's a good story? How about one about Old Took."

Gandalf nodded in agreement. "Many fine stories there, Bilba. Might I suggest the one about the magic diamond studs?"

* * *

It was late when the story had finished, and Thorin had come out of the bath and fallen asleep. Bilba forwent her own bath that night, the excitement of the last days catching up to her.

She woke up late the next next morning. Not even morning, to be honest. It was nearly noon when she pulled herself out of sleep. She yawned as she padded through the house. "Looks like the lazybones has finally gotten up," Bofur laughed. "We were wondering if you'd ever wake. We tried to get you up three times."

"Oh, really?" She climbed into a chair at the table and found the remnants of breakfast. "I didn't realize how tired I was."

"No problem there," Balin said. "We all slept in today. You're looking much better, if I do say."

"Aye," Dwalin spoke up. "The bags under your eyes are clearing."

"Were they that bad?" she touched her face and pulled at her skin for a moment.

"A few days of rest and you'll look as good as you did the day you left that little hole of yours."

"Hole? Please. It's called a smial. I hardly live in a hole."

Dwalin just shrugged. "Looked like a hole in a hill to me."

Bilba just shook her head and ate her cold toast, wiping the crumbs on her dirty pant legs. She vaguely realized what a mess she was. Her poor father would be turning in his grave. Wiping her dirty fingers on her clothes! From the corner of the room an argument suddenly erupted. It wouldn't be a normal day without one. Dori swatted his brother on the head. "Sit still!" Dori was busy fussing over Nori's complicated braids. "Oh, you've lost half of your hair pins. How am I supposed to put your stupid hair back up like this?"

"I don't know," Nori bit. "You're the one who insisted on doing it. I was fine."

"You look like beggar!"

"And you look like a priss." It quickly rose into something which wound up involving several knifes and Dori lifting his brother high over his head and threatening to throw him out of the window. Dwalin jokingly swung one open, and Dori proceeded to actually chuck the younger dwarf out.

Dwalin and Bofur laughed until they hit the floor.

Bilba covered her mouth at the stream of curses that came back through the window. "Oh my." He was going to stick his what _where_!?

She grabbed another slice of toast and slipped out of the room as Nori came stomping back in, twigs and grass in his hair.

She dodged Bifur and Gloin as they came back laden under a small mountain of clean and dried clothes, grumbling about having gotten delegated to laundry while everyone else was relaxing.

She saw Ori off in the distance sketching the scenery. Thorin was smoking on a bench, blowing smoke rings out over the gardens. Bilba nearly turned back inside to find her own pipe when Fili and Kili ambushed her with sticks.

"Finally!"

"We thought you'd sleep all day!"

"Here," Fili pushed a large stick into her hands. "Time to learn how to swing a sword."

She looked at it. "You're not serious?"

"Deadly," Kili said and poked her in the back.

She held it up and swung it around for a moment before sighing. "Oh, fine. I guess it will come in handy. But I doubt it'll actually do me any good."

* * *

Before Bilba knew it half of the company were sitting in the nearby shade and watching her continually have her 'sword' knocked across the grass. "Come on, Bilba. You've got to move your feet. You're little and fast. You're made for dodging!"

Thorin watched her get frustrated and angry with a half amused grin. And when had that changed, he wondered for a moment. A week ago he'd have watched her and been frustrated at her sheer lack of skill. But now he saw her making that effort and, well, he approved.

Nori laughed before he jumped up and rushed over to her and whispered something in her ear.

Dwalin laughed when Bilba nodded and ducked to the left of Fili's thrust and ran behind him before kicking the back of his knee and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Nori cheered, "That's it! You've gotta be sneaky."

Fili rolled over and looked up at her, panting with her hands on her knees. "That's cheating."

"You told me 'at any means necessary.' I think that counts."

"Oh," he smirked. "Is that how it's going to be now?" He sat up and waved to his brother.

Kili was on her before she could even stand back up straight and knocked her stick clear across the field. She huffed. "I should make you get that," she crossed her arms, but stalked away to retrieve it.

"We've got to work on footwork," Fili said. "You've got to actually move so Kili can't hit you see easily. Even Ori could hit you standing still as you do."

"Hey!" he protested.

Thorin eased off of the bench and walked over as Kili knocked Bilba's stick away again. "Kili," he held out his hand. "Let me test our burglar."

"You're still injured," Bilba said picking up her stick.

"Aye, but I'm well enough for this. I'll make an easier target. I can't move too quickly with my ribs bound."

"I don't want to hit you! You're hurt!"

He smiled and pointed the stick at her. "You're going to have to actually hit me first."

She reddened and stood across from him.

"Let's practice a different way. You hobbits know how to dance, correct?"

"Of course we do."

He nodded. "Alright, then I'll lead. Just mirror what I do until you get used to moving around your opponent. This is how we taught my sister when she was young," he said as he started to pace around. Bilba hesitantly copied him. "She was always slow to move, too busy thinking about what to do and not acting. She's very good at thinking ahead. She's bested me many times." He lunged and Bilba shot back. "Good." He started moving around her again. "A moving target is harder to hit. But a predictable one is just as easy to hit as a still one." He swung at her again and she ducked, holding her sword up to block it. It flew out of her hands.

"This is just as bad as Kili rushing at me over and over again," she picked up her stick.

"Hold on to it tighter. When I came at you, you loosened your grip expecting it to fly out of your hands."

Their dancing game went on for nearly twenty minutes before Bilba felt comfortable enough moving to actually change up the pattern and try to hit Thorin.

She failed miserably over and over again, but eventually managed to keep the stick in her hands when Thorin clashed with her.

He gave her a short smile. "Enough for today. You can keep going with my nephews, if you'd like."

She pushed sweaty hair out of her eyes. "Alright." She dropped her stick and the grass and fanned herself with the collar of her sticky shirt. "Thanks," she added looking up. The dwarf only nodded and found his place back on the bench in the shade.

* * *

Their story started as much by chance as it did by fate.

There were signs and portents, of course, as Oin would attest. Everything from birds and stars to the flowers picked and placed in Bilba's hair.

Berrirose and rainflowers, as it were.

It was as much Oin's job to understand things like the language of flowers as it was for him to know which flowers made what medicines. Gloin swore by his brother's predictions. It was an art that came from their mother's family, an art that Gloin had no skill for, but a great respect.

And Oin had predicted, or at least noticed, some very interesting things after their decent from the Carrock.

Like the prince's demeanor change towards their burglar. Though, it was true, a blind man could see it. There were other things. Smaller things. Unconscious things. Sitting closer to Bilba or the way he fell into step with her. There were things he had no control over. Like the four blue birds on top of Beorn's house, or the way the wisteria creeping up the side of the door caught in the breeze as Thorin and Bilba bumped into each other under the frame.

But then there were the flowers.

Bilba found herself sitting in the grass with a basket of flowers that afternoon, hands busy weaving a crown.

"What are you making?" Ori leaned down into her light.

"Oh, just," she held it up, "it'll be a crown when it's done."

He dropped down in the grass across from her, his sketchbook on his lap. "What's it for?"

"Just wearing. I was bored. There's nothing really special about them," she said twisting the ends together and tucking a few more flowers in for good measure. She reached out and sat it on the dwarf's head. "You look ready for a mid-summer's eve party."

"What's this about a party?" Kili laughed as he came over.

"Don't you laugh. Come here!" She pointed beside her and grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him down. Bilba busied herself tucking small yellow flowers in his hair. "You'd fit right in with a load of hobbits now."

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and he turned around as she started picking the thorns from a rose and pricked herself. "Oh, stickle bats!" She stuck her thumb in her mouth as the pair laughed at her.

"Do flowers have meanings to hobbits?"

"Some do, naturally. I'm not very knowledgeable. I know the basics, really, but I'd have to ask my gardener for anything beyond that. Holman is quite brilliant. Best gardener in all the Shire. Little Hamfast is quite promising though. He's still young. He only became an apprentice less than a year ago and he's already very good." She kept her hands busy with another crown and babbled on. "I always figured he'd become a roper like his father." No one noticed the small tremor in her voice. "Good lads, all of them." She smiled and put down her crown and instead lifted up a hand to touch the flowers on Ori's head. "I chose these more for their colors than their meanings. The primrose is for eternal love, the yellow poppies are for wealth. Other colors mean other things. But the bellflowers, these purple ones, mean loss."

"Some dwarves know the language of flowers. I don't know if it's the same. I don't know it at all," Ori said. "Oin should, don't you think?" he looked to Kili.

He quirked his head to the side. "Oh, I guess so. All his fortune-telling and stuff. I don't believe any of it," he as stretched. "Do you think we'll have dinner soon?"

"I hope so," Bilba said. "Oh, I meant to take a bath before. I should head back, I've spent too long out here."

"We'll walk you back."

She gathered up her basket of extra flowers. She could at least leave them in a vase for Beorn.

* * *

Bilba was ringing out her curls when she heard the voices raising in the dining hall. "Oh they'd better save me some," she muttered to herself and threw on her clothes, hair still wet on her back.

After dinner, her hair still damp, she pushed it out of her eyes for the fifth time. She searched her bag for her scissors, but they had gone missing somewhere between Bag End and now. She sighed. She needed to trim her hair.

Perhaps one of the dwarves would have scissors... Maybe they'd even help her. She was loath to admit that she had butchered her hair far too many times in her life. But who would be the most reasonable dwarf to ask? Dori seemed a good candidate. She couldn't have been more wrong. He balked.

"Cut your hair!? Why in the world would you ever want us to do that?"

Which caught the attention of the rest of the dwarves, and she was bombarded with cries of why, and utter refusal.

"Why not! Look, it's gotten so long it's bothering my eyes. It is a perfectly reasonable thing to do, and if I didn't fear messing it up I'd do it myself!"

Thorin frowned at her. "It is a dwarven rule. No one will help you with this task, burglar."

She sighed and her shoulders sagged. And there was the anger back in his voice. It had been a good two days anyhow.

"I'm not a dwarf, I'm a hobbit. I get my hair trimmed every few months. Most hobbits do." She dropped her arms, exasperated. "Do any of you at least have scissors I can borrow? Beorn's are the size of my garden shears!"

Another cry of outrage rose up.

"We can braid it out of the way," someone suggested.

"I can hardly be bothered to braid my hair that often."

"How about until it grow long enough to stay out of your eyes? Then it can just be tucked back. You wouldn't have to cut it," Dori suggested with a hopeful smile.

She rolled her eyes.

"Please, Bilba?" Kili begged.

She deflated. "Oh, fine. But I am hardly any good at braiding. My cousins always made fun of how bad I was."

"Don't let Kili near your head," Fili said. "He's terrible."

That even brought a laugh out of Thorin.

Kili pulled a face. "Well Uncle can do it. He's very good."

Bilba didn't have to look over to know Thorin was probably frowning and shaking his head, but she looked when he spoke. "Very well then."

"Oh!" Kili said. "This is the perfect time to tell us how you got away from the goblins!"

That's how Bilba ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor, between Thorin's knees, his fingers in her curls. She sat at the head of a circle of dwarves telling the tale of Gollum.

* * *

Thorin settled behind her with her brush before the company gathered. "I was under the impression braiding was important to dwarves."

"It is. It is a way of socializing, among other things. Friends will often braid for each other."

"Ah. Hobbits are the same then."

"A small way," he said, "to make up for my poor attitude on the first leg of our journey."

"Oh, that's..."

"I would also like to start over on a better foot. I would be honored to consider you a friend," he admitted.

"I would lov-_like_ that very much."

Thorin nodded.

Some specific braids could mean significant things. Most, of course, were purely aesthetic. But there were courting braids, and marriage. Braids to say you were sworn to your craft, braids that were worn by only certain families. Thorin didn't feel it important to say this though.

Kili bounded in with Bilba's basket that he put beside them. "You ought to put flowers in, Uncle. Hobbits wear flowers in their braids."

"Not always," Bilba said. "But... I wouldn't mind," she added. She didn't think it important to say that flowers in your hair could have special meanings, even more than those in bouquets. Generally they were just to look pretty... but the language of flowers spoke volumes.

Thorin hummed in response.

Once they'd all gathered Bilba started. "Well, when we all fell I was able to duck away from the goblins, and I tried to follow after you all but I met another goblin on the path. He jumped on my back and in the struggle we both went over the ledge. Down and down we tumbled, separating. We landed in a dank cave, with a lake in the center. And we weren't alone," she frowned as Thorin caught a knot in her hair. "There was a wretched creature down there, no bigger than myself. It was talking to itself as it drug the unconscious goblin away and bashed it's head in with a rock!" She punched her palm to demonstrate. "I tried to find a way out in the dark and on the ground I caught sight of something small and shiny. A little golden ring. I tucked it into my pocket without thinking. As I wandered the cave looking for a way out it saw me.

"It snuck around to me and nearly caught me. It spoke to me, saying how he wanted to eat me!" She chomped her teeth, and laughed. "He never mentioned if he had a name. In my mind I've started calling him Gollum. That's the awful noise he made. _Gollum, gollum_!" she choked. "I thought he'd bash in my head like the goblin, but he was confused. 'Never heard of a hobbit before,' he said. 'Is it tasty?' And I held onto my little sword asking the way out."

She waved her hand in front of herself, pretending to hold out her sword. She was careful not to move her head too much.

Thorin had started to pull her hair out of her eyes and into a pair of braids around the sides of her head.

"'We know,' it said. 'We know the way out.' It was as if he were two people! He got angry and told himself to shut up. Indeed, he passed back and forth between moods like two of him lived in his head. He challenged me to a game. If I won he'd show me the way out, but if he won he'd eat me whole. So we played riddles in the dark for hours. It came down to one final riddle:

_This thing all things devours:_

_Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_

_Gnaws iron, bites steel;_

_Grinds hard stones to meal;_

_Slays king, ruins town,_

_And beats high mountain down._

"Well, go on," she said. "Take a guess."

They pondered it a while and spat out many answers. The names of several giants and ogres from old tales. All the while Thorin slowly combed out her hair and separated it into several sections down her back, but even his hands paused as he thought about the riddle.

"Oh, what is it Bilba, come on?"

"Oh, none of you are even close! Come on now. Try a little harder," she laughed. "My life was at stake with these games."

Behind her Thorin snorted as his mind finally found the answer. "It's time," he said.

She smiled, but couldn't turn to see him or else ruin her hair. "Yes. That's exactly right. But, you see, I didn't know the answer. I was so scared I could hardly speak as he mocked me in the darkness. I meant to shout out to give me more time, but all that would come out was 'Time! Time!'" She clapped her hands down on her thighs. "Oh, he was angry with me then. So, it was my turn, but I was so scared, and I was fumbling in my pockets, I couldn't keep my thoughts in my head. 'What have I got in my pocket?' I asked to myself, forgetting about the ring I had picked up. But Gollum mistook it for my riddle. He demanded three guesses and got them all wrong. I had won."

"But surely he would not keep his word," Thorin said. "How did you escape him?"

"Oh, he was enraged and I didn't believe him from the start. But he said first he wanted to show me his birthday present. I thought he meant to come back with something to kill me, but he broke out crying. Lost it was. His present. His precious, he called it. He went mad, saying I had stolen it. I don't even know what it was. I fled and ducked through tunnels and behind rocks. I didn't know where I would end up, but he was right behind me.

"I tripped in my escape and a most curious thing happen, the ring I had kept in my pocket slipped onto my finger and he ran past me. Invisible, I was. 'Sneaky hobbit,' he said. 'If it knows the way in it must know the out.' So he unwittingly led me through the tunnels to the exit, thinking to catch up with me. I ran past when I saw the light and escaped, hoping he would not dare leave the darkness."

"Invisible!"

"Yes, a magic ring."

"A perfect tool for a burglar," Nori said. "Wish I had me one of those."

Thorin made a noise behind her. "Magic rings are often not to be trifled with. Many have dark enchantments over them."

"I haven't noticed anything like that. But I've only used it the one time."

Thorin nodded.

Honestly he was much to focused on Bilba's hair to worry about the ring. Curls, he decided, were the things with dark enchantments. Hairs kept poking free of the braid, and they looked strange. He'd done and redone them twice now and was on his third attempt.

Dwalin laughed beside them. "Having trouble there?"

"Be quiet," he said with a low growl

"Oh," Bilba laughed. "Are the curls making it difficult? The hair is out of my eyes. The rest can be loose."

Thorin just growled again.

Dwalin laughed. "It's a matter of pride at this point."

Thorin had tried for sets of more complex braids but in the end settled on one thick one down her back. He picked up the basket and sifted through the flowers.

"Flowers have all kinds of meanings to hobbits," Kili said.

Oin looked up at that. "Do they now?"

"They don't always. Just for certain occasions. Hobbits would be in all kinds of messes if every flower meant something all the time. We just like them for their colors."

Thorin pulled out a number of tiny white rainflowers, tucking them down the braid. He looked once more and picked a larger pink flower and tucked it right at the top. Berrirose.

That was all very interesting to Oin.

"That looks great, Uncle," Kili said, leaning around.

"Well turn around and show us," Gloin said.

She smiled and got up to turn for them. There were nods of approval all around.

Oin nodded to himself, and got lost in his thoughts.

There were others in her basket that would have looked nicer in his opinion. There were poppies and buttercups. Bellflowers and gardenias and violets.

In a basket of friendship and peace, loss and rejection, luck and courage, he chose for her promises and atonement.

And weren't they just strangely perfect, Oin thought. The woman who promised to take them home, and the man who was trying to make up for his undeserved harshness towards her.

And there were other meanings in those flowers. Perhaps they would follow.


	3. Fell Dreams

During their first days in the forest they tried lighting fires at night, but all around hundreds of eyes seemed to glow. Watching. Waiting.

It left Bilba utterly depressed. She was quiet for nearly a week. No one could coax a smile out of her. Not the boys, nor Bofur with his ever present optimism. Even Thorin had tried, and failed miserably. He sat down beside her after their dinner one night and offered to redo her braids. As he worked he tried to tell her of the splendors of Erebor, but she did not care about the gems and gold. He tried to tell her of the magnificence of the gardens that once lay before it, but his descriptions fell short. He even told her about the time he walked in on his nephews dressed in their mother's clothes, still very young children, and declaring themselves the princesses of Ered Luin. They had smeared Dis' makeup over their faces and ended up tripping in her skirts as they paraded themselves in front of visiting dignitaries. It had almost worked, he thought. She breathed a small laugh, but her body sagged again under the weight of the darkness.

One day it grew so dark under the trees that Bilba couldn't keep her feet.

"Watch where you're walking," Gloin said as Bilba stumbled for the third time.

"Easier said than done."

The next time she tripped she fell on her face. She hardly had the will power to sit up. She was completely defeated.

"Are you okay?" Ori asked.

"No. No, I am not. I don't know where I am, or what is in front of me. I cannot see. I cannot see a single thing!" She shuddered and buried her face in her hands and hid the few tears that dared escape in her hopelessness.

"Oh, oh," Ori looked around in a panic, and pulled her to her feet. "You can't see anything at all?"

"It is all black. I'm lucky enough to catch the outline of whoever has been in front of me to make sure I'm still going the right direction. I can't understand how any of you are walking around in this."

Fili stepped up and hooked an arm in her's and motioned for Kili to do the same. "Just walk with us until it gets lighter."

It took another two days for that to happen. The trees thinned out as they came upon a river. Oh, and what an unfortunate day that turned into.

* * *

Bombur made it across the the river with all the grace of a drunk goose. They dragged him out of the water and he had not woken up since. As if carrying his weight wasn't enough, he snored and talked in his sleep.

Bofur's once seemingly endless good moods came to an abrupt halt. He complained endlessly to his deaf brother. "When you wake up, that's it. No more extra food. I'm sending you to run laps up and down the path, you great, fat klutz."

They took turns hauling him down the path and Bilba took on a load of extra packs that slowly dwindled with the days as their rations ran low, and so did their hope.

It was hardly evening when Thorin called for a stop. "We'll make camp here for now."

Bombur was dropped not so gently on the ground.

Bofur kicked him softly in the thigh, too tired at kick him any harder. "What's our poor mother going to think about this, eh?" Then he sat down by him with a heavy sigh and pulled a few leaves out of his beard. "You'd better wake up."

Bifur grunted something, and Bofur shook his head. Bifur shrugged before giving Bombur a thump on the forehead and sitting down.

"How much further is it," Dwalin complained for the thousandth time, dropping onto a log.

Balin sighed. "There is no telling here."

"There's no end to this accursed forest."

"We're lost," Bilba said and sagged against a tree.

Thorin shot her a glare. "We are not lost. We just have to keep heading east."

"You're always getting lost," Bilba frowned. She didn't even mean it maliciously. She was just so tired of these woods. Thorin crossed his arms and made an angry noise before dropping down next to Dwalin.

She stared up into the boughs. "Which way even is east?" She could just catch glimpses of light through the leaves. She could... "I'll be back," she said and dropped her pack on the ground and started climbing.

"What are you doing?" Thorin said and looked up as she heaved herself up onto a branch.

"I'm seeing how close we are."

"Get down from there, lass," Dwalin scolded. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"I am an excellent climber," she said. "I've climbed tons of trees and I've only ever fallen once," she said more to herself than anything. "If it hadn't been for my cousin, Herugar, I'd have never fallen either. Oh," she let out a bitter laugh, still talking to herself. "Aunt Belba switched him for that. Broke my arm! Pushed me clear out of the tree. That little! Bolgers, pah! My father wanted to kill him."

They set up camp at the base of the tree while Bilba climbed higher and higher. They could barely understand what she was rambling about up in the branches.

"Be careful!" Thorin shot up as he saw her foot slip on a bit of moss.

"I'd like to see you climb a tree, master dwarf!" she shot right back. "Honestly. Fight a few battles and you think you know better than a hobbit about trees."

Dwalin snickered.

Thorin just shook his head with a fond smile.

Oh, when had those smiles become so fond?

If Thorin were to try and describe what and who Bilba Baggins was, well, it would be very long and overly complicated. But he would say that he couldn't do it, just on principle, because he wasn't that kind of person.

He didn't do romantic.

Usually.

Not that this was.

But it would certainly sound that way if he spoke about her.

If he were asked to describe how he'd come to understand her, and care about her... he'd refuse. Because even he couldn't lie and say that he couldn't do it. He just didn't want to. Because that solidified everything, and nothing in his life was ever solid. It was always slipping away, and being torn from him, and everything was at the risk of being lost forever. He stood where all good things fell.

He was made of mountains and yet he had no rock to tie himself to.

And he was scared she was becoming that.

He had his family, his companions, his friends, but then she stumbled in with her simple curiosity and her dreams to know the extent of the world, and she charmed him.

So in return he was, in essence, a complete ass to her.

Because she was so simple and charming. She didn't need to know the world. It was not a pleasant place. It was not like her Shire. It was dark and bloody and full of monsters. And they would kill her. They would make her hurt, and they would make her bleed. They would kill her, and her bright little spirit.

A determined little thing, Bilba Baggins. She stood up to his every remark, and followed after them. She wormed her way in and before he knew it he worried for her. She was careless with a wit sharp enough to save herself, to save them.

She was clever.

Damn it.

He tried to cut her deep, to make her turn back.

Damn her.

Damn her for coming back and... making him feel like a complete ass.

So, he endeavored to be less terrible, which was easier than it should have been. And you'd think he'd never been nice to a person in his long life for all the looks he was getting from the rest of the company. The snickers from his nephews. The outright lewd looks from Dwalin, who certainly could not speak. He was obvious in the way he watched Ori.

Which became more and more odd every time he thought of it.

But there Dwalin sat, elbowing him in the dark of the forest, one of those looks on his face. "You've been making a lot of effort toward the halfling since the mountains," Dwalin said

"She is owed as much."

"Because she rushed in were sane folk fear to tread."

Thorin sighed. "Why are we talking about this again? She saved my life. She was much braver than I gave her credit for."

"Aye," he nodded and looked up into the tree for any sight of her, but she'd gone too high. "A small thing like her leaving home at all is brave. And she was ready to die for you."

"Yes, I know what has happened."

"I'm just saying she's had a different kind of courage from the start, and I'm only just realizing it myself. Up and leaving her comforts to brave the wilds for a pack of strangers. To stand between us and Azog."

He furrowed his brow and stared over at him. "You are being oddly insightful today. It's disconcerting."

Dwalin smirked and gave him one of those looks. "You've been staring again, and everyone has noticed, halfling included. No one else has the balls to talk about it 'cept maybe Balin."

"Not even my nephews. I find that hard to believe."

"I think they're plotting something."

He grimaced.

"Allow me to give a little insight of my own. You've been staring at Ori and you're lucky Dori hasn't noticed."

"Aye," he said, voice low and warning. "If you mention it to him I'll break your pretty nose. We'll see how much the hobbit fancies you then."

"This is ridiculous."

"What? You think she'd go for your busted nose?"

"No, that this is a matter of anyone _fancying_ anyone else. It is not. We are not discussing this," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's unprofessional, Dwalin."

He snorted. "Ain't been unprofessional of me to get off with Ori in the night..."

Thorin rubbed his forehead. There were just things he didn't need to know. Ever. "Well now that you've made me aware of that fact, it is very unprofessional and you'll cease."

"Oh, sure, the day you stop ogling Bilba." He scoffed. "Because you've never slept with someone on the job before, eh. Portrait of professional."

Thorin glared as he got up. "Dori? A word."

"Yes?"

"You'll not say a damned word to him or I'll rip off your-"

"I was only going to tell him he had watch tonight," Thorin raised an eyebrow at him.

Dori furrowed his brow "Is there something I should know, mister Dwalin?"

* * *

High above the world Bilba could not be bothered. The sun on her face was the most glorious thing she had ever felt. She could stay there in it's warmth forever. It was beautiful. Thousands of butterflies danced in the breeze and beyond them, the mountain stood. She took in a deep breath.

"How long does it take to climb a tree?" she heard echo up from the ground.

She laughed but didn't answer. She missed the Shire. Gods, she missed the Shire right now. What she wouldn't give for green grass under her feet and a soft bed.

"Bilba! Are you okay up there?"

She sighed and ducked below the leaves. "I'm fine! I'll be down in a minute."

She took one last breath of clean air and started back down. She regretted it when she touched ground. There were groans of anger and annoyance through the camp. The rations were gone. There would be one more meal and then... nothing. Bofur sighed beside her. "Any good news?"

Her shoulders drooped. "The forest just goes on for a ways still, but I could see the mountain, and a lake." She tired to smile, but the frowns around her were too much. "There is more behind us than ahead."

That night, after Dwalin had been forced into watch duty with Dori (because, really, Thorin liked nothing better than torturing him on occasion), Bilba had her first nightmare. Thorin sat up late into the night with his pipe, watching her toss and turn.

He shook out his blanket and laid it over her shoulders gently and hoped it would sooth her sleep.

* * *

Mirkwood wasn't the first time Bilba had had to tighten her belt and trudge on. When she was but a tween there had been the Fell Winter. Wolves were in the Shire and there was little food. Many died... She had been lucky.

But she had nightmares there in those woods she had not known for nearly twenty years. She thought she'd grown out of them.

She woke the company one night with a scream.

Bifur and Bofur had been on watch, and Thorin had sat up unable to sleep again. Bilba tossed and turned on her pallet and muttered in her sleep. The dreams had gotten worse over the last few days. Thorin rose from his place nearby. Before he could reach out to wake her she snapped forward with a shrill cry. "No, stop!"

It made Thorin jump back, but then he saw how she quaked and wrapped her arms around her body and buried herself into her knees. The entire camp, having slept lightly on their empty stomachs, sat up grabbing their weapons. Thorin swooped down beside Bilba who was sobbing into her knees and apologizing.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. Please go back to sleep. It won't happen again."

"Shh," Thorin was oddly tender with her. He turned to a grumbling company and ordered them back to sleep. He tentatively wrapped and arm around her, pulled her into his side, and waited for the tears to stop. Most of the company had drifted off again by the time she calmed.

"Do you wish to speak about your nightmares? You have had them for the last three nights."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother anyone with them."

"It is not a bother. It can help to talk about them, if you wish to." That he had his own experience with.

She was quiet for a moment and Thorin found her leaning into him.

"These woods frighten me. They remind me of when I was a girl, especially now with no food and the winter approaching. At least there have been no wolves in these woods..." She buried her head into his shoulder to hide tears and he held her closer, his hands drifting up to cradle her head. "I was twenty-one when the Fell Winter happened. I'll never forget that year. Never... It's just... This all reminds of it."

He remembered that year. He'd taken a number of jobs as a bodyguard that winter, escorting men and women between cities. He refused to let Fili or Kili out of the mountains. Dis had been more than willing to comply.

Bilba let a soft laugh. "I'm fifty... No, maybe fifty-one now? I cannot tell the days here. I shouldn't be having these dreams anymore."

"It was a very dangerous year," he said. "There is no shame in your nightmares. No one can control dreams."

She pulled back for a moment to wipe her nose on her sleeve, but tucked her head back against Thorin's shoulder. "It was terrifying. I wasn't a very good child. I ran wild and explored the woods. I was everything I wasn't when I first started this quest. Solid and comfortable, they called me," she tried to pull up a laugh but it caught in her throat. "A second edition of my father." She shook her head. "There was a day in the beginning when I was out alone in Tuckborough and wolves came out of the trees. Four giant, white wolves... They chased me clear to the Great Smials where I hid with my grandfather and cousins as they howled and clawed at the door. A pair of rangers saved us that day. But my foolishness..." She bit her lip and tried to reign back her tears. "There was a hobbit man working outside... I didn't know. I only wanted to find somewhere safe. I led the wolves right past him. He was killed and it was my fault." She sobbed new tears into her hands.

He rubbed small circles on her back. "They would have come regardless. No one was safe that winter. You are not to blame."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeves. "My nightmare wasn't that. It used to be. Sometimes instead the wolves would get me. Sometimes they'd get inside and get Old Took. Sometimes my parents..." She took in a deep breath. "Instead of wolves it was Azog to chase me on that white warg. I ran back to my home where all of you were in my dining room. And you went out and tried to fight him. I... I couldn't save you in my dream."

Thorin shifted and pulled her closer into his chest. "I am here and safe, Bilba. Because of you." She nodded under his chin. "And we will all make it out of these woods, I swear."

He'd spent so many long nights awake and worried about the company already. Their defeated looks, the bags under their eyes, their growling stomachs. He was responsible.

"Now here, lie down." He eased her down onto her bed roll. "I shall be right here. We are all here and alive." He leaned closer his voice a whisper, "Would it sooth your dreams for me to sleep here?"

"I... Yes, I think it would."

"Okay," he said and quietly moved to get his own bed roll. He laid on his side behind her and shifted closer, radiating heat towards her back. "Goodnight, Bilba."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Thorin."

If she rolled over in her sleep and pressed into the dwarf's chest and he wrapped an arm around her, well, no one had to know.

* * *

Bilba wasn't sure how it happened. One minute she was asleep and the next she was up to her shoulders in sticky web and trying to wrestle her little sword free to kill a spider the size of a horse. She hated spiders. Oh, should could manage little pantry spiders. She'd even scoop them up in cup and put them out of the window. That didn't mean she liked them.

Nor did she like these elves very much. Sure they killed a few spiders, but they had marched her dwarves off and sealed them in their kingdom. If only she had slipped inside faster, she could have followed them. As it stood, she had missed her chance. When she finally slipped through the doors they were long gone.

She found herself ducking behind guards and down halls until she found herself standing off to the side of the throne room. There was swearing and someone was pushed forward from the dark halls. _Thorin_! She nearly shouted when she saw him, but bit her tongue.

She stayed far away, her back to the wall, as he was pushed towards an elf. The king, she had to assume. Thranduil of the Woodland Realm.

The elves here were nothing like those of Rivendell. They stood armored and waiting for battle always, where Elrond's people, though tense around the dwarves, had been good-natured. They smiled and laughed. Rivendell had been a welcoming place.

Bilba felt stifled here. The hair rose on the back of her neck and her heart was beating rabbit fast in her chest.

They unbound his hands and shoved him before the king. He stumbled. Bilba winced.

"Tell me, Thorin son of Thrain, what it is that you doing are in my forests?"

Thorin met him with silence and a clenched jaw.

"Well?" He leaned back on his throne and waited.

Thorin cocked his head. "Looking for food."

"And before that?" Thranduil asked.

"Starving," Thorin said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Why was he antagonizing him? Bilba wanted to run up and shake him. Did he not realize he was a prisoner. _You imbecile_, her mind screamed. _You're damning all of us_.

"And what brought you to the forest before that?" Bilba heard the anger rising in his voice.

Thorin didn't answer. Thranduil gave his guards a look and they bound Thorin's hands again.

"What have we done? Is it now a crime to be lost and hungry?" he asked.

"It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave. Do not forget that you are in my kingdom, Thorin Oakenshield. And if you do not feel inclined to answer my questions perhaps some time will loosen your tongue." The guards started dragging him away as Thranduil rose from his throne. "A hundred years is but a blink of an eye to an elf. I'm patient. I can wait."

Bilba followed as closely as she dared, slipping by elves, and through doors, and down stairs as she followed Thorin. But she didn't follow closely enough. A door was swung between them and a guard stood at its side. Bilba's eyes grew wide as saucers and her chest grew tight. No. No no no! She was going to lose him in here. She turned around, and paced, silently twisting her hands into the back of her hair, mussing up her braid.

She had to find another way. There had to be another way.

She found store rooms and bathrooms and even Thranduil's chambers. She nearly fell off of walkways and she's certain her shadow had been seen more than once walking into a lit room without thinking. But she was lost. She was endlessly, hopelessly lost.

Her friends were lost. Her family. They were now. They were absolutely family to her. She didn't sleep, she hardly ate. She just searched and worried herself sick.

Were Fili and Kili separated? She knew it would destroy them, but it would hurt Fili most of all.

Was Dwalin tearing down the walls for his freedom? For his king, and company? For Ori? Balin, she prayed, was trying to be diplomatic and save them.

She hoped Bofur would be able to keep up his spirits and smile, at least to lie and assure the company things would be okay. She hoped Bombur was with him, and Bifur.

Gloin would be possibly even more angry than Dwalin. He would beat stone to rubble to get free, because he had a wife and son to go home to. And he had a brother who he'd sworn to help on this journey. She hoped that Oin was at least left his ear trumpet.

Dori would be making himself sick with worry if Ori or Nori were out of his sight. Ori would be frightened. And she knew how the boy loved Dwalin, and how he'd be just a fierce as any warrior if he thought he was in trouble. Nori would be trying to pick the locks, and she hoped he succeeded. But if he were caught... she didn't want to think about it.

And then there was Thorin.

Thorin who held her when she had cried, and braided flowers in her hair. The man who scowled at her and smiled for her. Who yelled at her for climbing trees. Thorin made her chest tight and her stomach do flips.

And she couldn't bare it. She could not bare that he was in a dungeon and made to stumble before kings.

She had set foot out of her door with little more purpose than a good adventure and proving the arrogant dwarf wrong.

And she'd done that.

When had that changed into this? When had proving him wrong turned into wanting to sit next to him at meals, and brushing out her hair hoping he'd offer to braid it.

It lie somewhere between a suicide run and a crushing hug at sunrise.

It was somewhere in his smile.

Bilba shook her head. Now she just sounded like some awful, lovesick tween. It was almost as bad as dealing with Lalia gushing over her cousin.

She ducked around yet another corner and flattened herself against a wall as a pair of elves walked by. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. Every hall looked the same as the last.

It took her a week to find anyone.


	4. Foolhardy Tooks

Chapter Four – Foolhardy Tooks

* * *

Thranduil's halls were nothing like those of Rivendell. They were twice as confusing, but even when she had felt she could get used to the twisting nature of Rivendell, she feared the halls of the Woodland Realm would consume her. They were cold and not in the least welcoming.

She clutched her hands to her chest and twisted her ring as she combed the halls for signs of her friends. She trailed guards and ducked away from all others.

It took too long, too very long until she found the first dwarf. Had it been days? Weeks? She couldn't tell. It was forever the same here, and she had hardly dared to sleep. She stole what little food she needed to manage.

She found Oin first, and what brilliant luck that was. She could only whisper and he was without his trumpet. She frantically tried to recall any of the signs she had puzzled out from Bifur, but she could think of nothing she could use to speak with him. She remained ducked back in the shadows, ring still on her finger, and though it hurt to do it she continued past his cell without so much as a word.

She stumbled upon more cells as she went. Seven dwarves were kept along the hall. Gloin had been gruff, as expected. When he asked about Oin she frowned. "He looked well enough, but I haven't spoken with him. He wouldn't be able to hear me."

"I understand."

She wrung her hands. She'd been told once before she wasn't allowed to be taught any of the iglishmêk, but she figured she had to ask again. "Is there any way I can tell him that you're okay, and that I will find us a way out of this? I know I'm not supposed to learn dwarvish. What if you just taught me a sign without telling me what exactly it meant?"

He almost considered it but apologized instead. "I'm sorry. Maybe if you find a scrap of paper you can give him a note."

She nodded.

Ori was miserable, but he had paper in one of his pockets she could use to speak with Oin. "When they searched us they took all of our weapons, but they'd didn't really care to take anything else," he said holding up a small notebook. "But I haven't got anything to write with."

"That's fine. This is perfect. I'll find something."

"Have you found my brothers yet?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Dwalin?" he asked.

She could only shake her head.

She found Fili at the end of the hall pacing in his cell, but there was no sign of Kili. He was practically tearing his hair out thinking of his little brother. Bilba could do nothing to calm him down. Her promises to find him did nothing to help. He reached through the bars and put a hand on the back of her neck and rested their foreheads together between the bars, a gesture of affection. "You're like a sister to me, so be careful. You know I trust you with our lives, right? I trust you to find him. I'm just scared, namad."

She bit back tears. "I'm scared too, but I will find him."

"Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu," he said. "May Mahal's hammer shield you."

"Thank you."

He laughed. "I could hear you and Gloin up the hall. I wouldn't mind teaching you some Khuzdul. It's a stupid rule."

"And what are you going to do? Change it when you're king?"

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I will."

* * *

It took another day and night of searching to find the hall where the rest of the dwarves were held, save for Thorin who was still lost.

When she found Dwalin he was punching the cell bars. She had to duck behind a corner as the guards came through bringing rations. There was a particularly frightened guard assigned to Dwalin. He put his meal on the ground and slid it closer with a pole. Apparently on the first night they had been unfortunate enough to be grabbed. They did not make that mistake twice. Still, she watched the guard slide over his meal as Dwalin grew frustrated and head-butted the bars while swearing. When she was finally sure they were alone she slipped off her ring.

"Dwalin!" she hissed

The dwarf did a double take. "Mahal's beard! What are you doing here, lassie? You'll be caught!"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I've found almost everyone. I've been trying to figure out an escape plan."

He just growled. "I can't do a thing to break out of here."

"I'll find a key. I have to find Nori still, and Thorin."

"Nori'll be down the hall. I've heard him swearing at the tree-shagging bastards."

"And Thorin?" she asked hopefully.

Dwalin just made a face and sat. "No. Find him soon though."

"I will. I'll try," she promised, her hand gripping one of the bars between them.

"Aye, I know you will. You do right by us. Better than we deserve."

She just shook her head with a smile. "What else is family for."

Dwalin smiled back. "How are the rest of the lads?"

"Not happy," she said and eased down to sit against the bars. "Balin had a message, before I forget."

"Aye?"

"Don't do anything stupid," she huffed a small laugh. "Seems too late for that. What were you thinking, grabbing a guard?"

"I was thinking I wanted to rip his smug head from his shoulders."

She shrugged. "Ori's keeping up spirits," she said. "He'll be glad to know you're alright. Even if you've probably bruised your head, hitting the bars like that." She fingered the ring in her pocket, eyes looking up and down the corridors.

"Tell him not to do anything foolish."

"He's not you," she laughed. "But I'll tell him. I'll let him know you're worried."

He nodded. "Thank you."

She got up and brushed off her pants. "I'll find a way out. I just have to find the rest of us first."

Dwalin was quiet as she slipped on her ring and went off in search of their favorite kleptomaniac. True to Dwalin's word he was at the end of the hall. He'd been sneaky. He listened and remembered and memorized the comings and goings of the elves.

"It'll be four hours before they come back and eight more after. That'll be night. They're always very prompt."

She nodded. That was good. She could find a way to use that, she was sure. But she still had one question left. "Have you seen Thorin?"

"No, Miss Bilba, 'fraid I haven't. But I hear grumbling. Nobody likes the prison held the level below us." Well, that was new.

"I haven't been below. I didn't know there was anything lower than this."

Nori nodded. "I'll bet he's there. If only I had my lock picks," he lamented. "Have you found our gear?"

"Locked away. I've not found the key."

He hummed. "I trust you'll find one. If we get out of here I'll teach you to pick a lock. Good skill for a burglar."

* * *

The stairs down were dark and hidden in the walls. It took a day to find the right stairway. She hadn't dared to trail behind any guards. She would take too deep a breath, scuff a foot over the floor, her shirt would rustle, her stomach would growl... she'd made too many elves pause mid-stride and look around already.

The hall was long and dark. The air was damp. She could hear running water as if it were beneath her.

When she saw him she wanted to run to him. She wanted to call out. It had been so long since she'd seen him. His cell was tucked in a corner and there was a space to stand where she'd been unseen by any approaching guards.

She looked back before slipping off her ring and ducking into the little alcove. "Thorin."

His head shot up and when he saw her it was like he'd seen a ghost. He couldn't believe his eyes. He must have been going crazy down here. He scrambled to his feet and rushed to her side. "Bilba! How? What are you doing here?"

She nearly collapsed with relief. She sunk back against the stone wall. He didn't look so bad. A bit too thin for her liking, a bit too defeated, but he wasn't hurt. "I'm so glad you're alright."

He shook his head. "How long have you been down here?"

"Nori says," she cut herself off with a yawn. "It's been nearly two weeks now."

"Two weeks? How have you not been caught?"

"You remember that ring I told you all about? I wasn't making it up. It makes me invisible." She took it out of her pocket and slipped it on for proof.

His eyes went wide. "Take it off!" Thorin's hand shot out through the bars and caught her arm. She was quick to obey. "Magic rings are not to be trifled with." And Bilba saw actual fear in his eyes and she didn't understand.

"It's just a simple ring," she said and held out for him to see. He cautiously held out his hand to take it. The second she dropped it into his palm to inspect he grabbed her wrist and forced it back to her as if it burned him.

"I would not wear that thing if the mere act of putting it on would slay the dragon. There is a darkness in that."

"That's ridiculous."

Thorin shook his head, his eyes never leaving the ring as she slipped it back into her pocket. "Only wear it when you absolutely must," he begged.

"That is always in this place or else I will be caught."

He refused to see magic corrupt her as it had his family. He still lived in fear of the day his nephews began to show signs of sickness in their blood. "Flee. Leave and do not come back. Your safety-"

"Oh, shut up. As I have told everyone else, I'm here to get you out. I've made a promise, and I very well intend to keep it." She scowled, hands on her hips and her chin held high.

His voice was soft. "Promise me you will take it off any time that you can."

"Thorin!"

"Promise me."

She looked into his eyes and saw all the worry that he didn't mask. She deflated. "Okay. Fine... I don't understand this fear of yours, but fine."

Thorin nodded. "This place is hidden enough, and I will be able to see the guards coming before they will be able to see you. Stay here to rest without that ring."

She sighed. It had been days since she went any real length of time without the ring. It was days since she'd lived in a world that didn't come to her through gray smoke and muffled sounds. She covered her mouth as another yawn came.

"You're tired. Rest, Bilba."

So she did. It took a long while to readjust to a normal world. She hid only when a guard came with Thorin's ration. He made her take half of it, even though he tried to make her take the whole thing. Her cheeks were hollow, and her shirt hung looser than he remembered. When he told her that she frowned and said that he looked the same. Too thin and tired. So they compromised.

Later that night, several hours now free of the ring, she began to whisper beside him. "It is very cold in the ring's world. And all the color is stripped away." She was laying down beside his cell in the little alcove, and he sat up just beside her. She reached though the bars and took his hand, almost ready to apologize for wanting the small comfort of another person, but he tightened his grip around her's. He was grateful for the small comfort as well. "It's been days since I was without it. I didn't even realize how cold it was after a while, or how distant this world was. It's like it's made my brain foggy."

"Magic rings are dangerous things," he said. "Once, long ago, the seven kingdoms of the dwarves were gifted such rings. They drove the kings mad and poisoned their lines. My grandfather had one such ring, passed down through my family. Had it not been lost it would have come to me."

"Thorin..."

"My blood is just as tainted as theirs. That ring will bring you nothing good," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you lost to whatever evils that ring brings. When our quest is over, please, let me see it destroyed."

Bilba pulled her hand away and laid it over her pocket. "But..." She avoided his gaze as he stared at her. "Should it really come to that?" She wasn't sure why she cared so much about the ring.

She slowly eased her hand back down and found Thorin's again.

"Bilba," there was something absolutely destroyed in his voice. It was a thousand years old, haunted and chilled.

"...Okay," she nodded, thinking it over. "If you think it would be best."

"Yes, Bilba. More than you could know."

* * *

She left Thorin after he'd fallen asleep and made her way through the halls, trying to keep track of which halls led where. In a hall near to Thorin's she found her miracle. There was a door. Well, a kind of door. A chute, really. But it was a way out! It was the only exit she had seen other than main gates.

But there was a guard, but the guard had the keys. She was tempted to just run up and snatch them. Only briefly. It was a foolish, Tookish thing to do.

Maybe Nori would have an idea.

The closer she came to the surface the louder it got that night. To get to Nori's cell she had to pass Kili's, but someone was there.

"It's just a token," he said. "My mother gave it to me so I would remember my promise."

"What promise?" she overheard a clearly female voice. She stalled when she saw an elf as Kili's cell. _There shouldn't be guards here now!_

"That I would come back to her. She's always worrying. She thinks I'm reckless," he said. Bilba stood flat against the wall, watching. The elf sat down by Kili's cell.

"Are you?"

"Nah." Of course it was that moment something clattered and skidded out of his cell. The elf picked it up and turned it over in the light. "Do you think I'll ever get out of here?"

She frowned. "Your leader had been most uncooperative. If you wished to tell your story to the king, maybe..."

Kili shook his head. "I can't do that."

She nodded. "I understand. In your place I would do the same."

"He's my uncle. I could never betray him like that. He raised me and my brother like we were his own sons."

She nodded quietly. "That is something I understand better than most, master Kili."

A loud laugh came from down the hall and they both turned to it. A pair of elves stumbled past. "Tauriel," one called. "Come join us!" he slurred.

She shook her head. "Perhaps later."

Neither seemed to notice or care she was sitting with the prisoners and continued on their way.

"Are you missing a party or something?"

She laughed. "Only a small one. There was a birth a few hours ago. It is not very often children are born here, so we celebrate. Some too much. Still, this is nothing. In three days every elf in the kingdom will likely be occupied by festivities. It will be Mereth-en-gilith, the Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar, but wood elves love best the light of the stars."

"I've always thought it was a cold light. Remote and far away."

"No, no," she sounded almost taken aback. "It is memory," she explained. She spoke about the stars like poetry. How she walked in their light as the world fell away. There was such wonder in her voice even Bilba smiled and wanted to go over to her. She very quietly inched closer. "It is... like your promise," she told him.

He smiled to that and sat down next to the bars of his cell. "I saw a fire moon once," Kili said. "Huge," he motioned with his hands. "Red and gold, it was. We'd taken an escort job for some merchants. I wish I could show you. It was beautiful."

As Kili went on he started flirting with his prison guard. Bilba didn't need to hear him wax poetic about how her red hair reminded him of that moon. She smiled and shook her head before slipping down a different hall. As she snuck up towards the kitchens she had to dodge more and more drunken elves, and caught more and more talk of Mereth-en-gilith. This seemed her perfect chance.

* * *

When she came back down Kili was tapping a tune against the bars. Bofur was just starting to stretch awake. She slipped off her ring in front of Bofur's cell and he jolted at the sight of her. "Don't scare me like that, Bilba."

"Sorry."

Kili pressed his face to the bars of his cell trying to see down the hall. "Bilba?"

"I'm here."

"Have you seen my brother recently?"

She nodded and made her way down towards him. "Earlier today, or last night maybe. Time gets all confused here. He's still worried about you, no matter what I tell him."

"Oh," his shoulders slumped. He looked depressed, but she couldn't fault him. Everyone had reason to be. "Bilba?"

"Yes?"

"I need something, anything, to get my mind off of this place. Could you tell me a story?"

She hummed. "I suppose I could. That guard won't be back anytime soon, will she?"

His eyes went wide. "You saw that?"

"Tauriel, was that her name?"

He nodded. "She won't be back."

"Okay, well," she walked away a bit and fixed herself between Bofur and Kili's cells. "Do you want to listen as well?"

"Sure, lass. Anything to keep my mind out of this place is welcome," he said.

She sat down against the wall, and spoke just loudly enough they could hear, but not to carry down the hall. "Oh, what's something good?" she wondered to herself. So many of the stories she knew had elves, and she doubted they would appreciate those tales. "Old Took told me this one when I was very young. It's all about the origins of Tooks, and indeed even hobbits to some extent. Us Tooks are cursed," she said.

"Really?" Kili asked. "You don't seem cursed."

"Oh, it's very true. It's an old fae curse in our blood, you see. It's from long, long ago, so long it is almost beyond remembering. Hobbits didn't always live in the Shire. We lived far to the east, over the Misty Mountains, in the shadow of a great forest. No one quite knows why we left the lands."

"Perhaps goblins," Bofur offered.

"Perhaps," she nodded. It seemed as good an answer as any. "Well, in the beginning, Tooks were not so adventurous as a whole, but sometimes you got one or two who wanted to see beyond the borders of their lands. One day a pair of them, brother and sister, left to wander the paths of the woods. Along the way they were lost and got separated. The older of the two, the brother, managed to find his way out. He devised a plan to go back into the woods, but leave a trail so that when he found his sister they would be able to find their way back home.

"What he didn't know was that his sister was hardly lost. Hobbits knew of the fae that lived in those woods and she had left her brother behind to find their secret village. She was quite greedy and didn't want to share them with her brother. She found them, far off from the trails, and was so enchanted she stayed for a very long time."

"Are fairies actually real?" Kili asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course they are, don't be silly," she waved a dismissive hand. "We see stone giants in the mountains, and I have a magic ring that makes me invisible, and you're going to question fairies? How else would we be cursed? Now, as I was saying, the girl always meant to go home, but when it comes to fairies, one loses track of the time. Indeed, it was many years before she realized she needed to go home. In all that time she had met a fairy man that she had come to love very much, and together they had a baby. But the baby was very much like a hobbit, and like all hobbits craved to be in the sunlight. So they, and the fairy, left the fae lands for home.

"This boy was the first true Took. He's why were tend to be more fair than other hobbits, and far more strange. Hobbits live quiet lives and never go off on crazy adventures, save for us. Most odd, and highly disrespectible behavior," she said.

"That's probably the best curse I've ever heard of. Normally they're like being cursed to be ill, or have some kind of evil. You just go adventuring," he said.

"Well that's all fine for you, but among most hobbits that's considered a bad thing," she said. "When I was young I always used to run off and wander the woods looking for fairies. I never did find one, but my Old Took always used to say that once day, if I looked hard enough, I'd find one and they would have to write whole new tales all about me," she laughed. "Bilba Baggins and the Great Fae of the Shire."

Bofur laughed. "Well, they can always write about Bilba Baggins and the Quest for Erebor."

She smiled. "Perhaps they shall. Wouldn't that be crazy, stories about me and a load of dwarves."

"We'll get Ori to write it," Bofur said.

Kili smiled at her. "I'm glad you're cursed."

"I think I am too. If only it could help me come up with a foolproof plan to get us out of here."

"Did you hear about Mereth-whatever?" Kili asked.

She smirked. "I did, and you know, I'm really liking the sound of it. I didn't really sit and listen to you and that elf for very long. What all can you tell me about it?"

Lucky for her, they did end up talking about it much more.

* * *

"You're a good luck charm," she said as she slipped off her ring and wrapped her hands around the bars. "I found you and everything started to fall into place!" She beamed as Thorin moved over to her. Of course all he could see what that she looked half wasted away.

"You need to rest," he told her for likely the tenth time. "You're barely standing."

"I'll rest when I'm dead," she grumbled and waved around a hand. "I couldn't if I wanted to. I'm so stressed I'd need some kind of sleeping draught to even try. But, Thorin, I found a way out. And I found the perfect time to do it! I just need to find a way around the guard who is always in the room."

She went on about wine cellars and a guard with the keys and how basically the entirety of the kingdom would be caught up in a celebration soon. She looked so happy, so relieved. The sun shone out of that smile. It could light forges. But as she tried forming ideas her face started to fall, and she twisted her hands in her hair and paced. Her momentarily proud shoulders now slumped. "Oh, what are we going to do? We've only get three days. I don't know how to take care of the guard. I'm not strong enough to knock him out," she turned around and looked at him, eyes full of fear. "I can't kill him. Don't even think to ask me to do that. Oh, what am I going to do? All this quest and I've never felt so helpless as I do now."

"If there is one thing I've learned about hobbits, Miss Baggins, it is that you are most hardy folk." His smile came easy. Never mind she looked like she's not slept since that night in the forest, never mind she was covered in grime. She had deep bags under her eyes and her hair stood out in every which way. She was beautiful. Right here, right now, in this moment she was more beautiful than anyone he'd ever laid eyes on.

She covered her face as she yawned. Oh. _Oh_!

"Foolhardy, maybe," she said and slowly a smile dawned on her face. "I'm a Took." Sweet Mother, she'd just had an idea.

"And what's that mean exactly," Thorin reached out and cradled his hand against the back of her neck.

"Oh, just, that I'm likely about to do something very foolish indeed."

"Me too."

And he kissed her there, through the bars of his cell. Soft and chaste.

She flushed down to her feet and stammered. "Na-na-na-not quite what I had planned on. But-but very..." she was smiling. Bilba reached through the bars then, her hands pushing through his hair, and pulled him back for another, much deeper kiss.

Oh, it should be scandalous. It would even embarrass her wildest Took relations.

She pulled away and almost laughed at how flushed Thorin's face had gone.

"I'll be back," she smiled.

"Be safe."

"Whenever am I not?" And she vanished. As she walked away she looked back at him, smiling into the empty hall. She slapped a hand over her mouth. That had been a stupid thing to do. She hadn't brushed her teeth in weeks. She was glad she was invisible. She looked as red as her tomatoes.

* * *

She hissed at Oin and threw the small notebook Ori had given her at him in the cell. Inside she had tucked something to write with. It had been their only means of communication since she'd found him, and then it was mostly used to pass messages from Gloin.

_ Instructions to make a strong sleeping draught._

He furrowed his brow and stared at her wanting a reason, but she just flailed her arms urging him silently to be swift. He chewed his lips as he wrote as clearly as he could, noting at the bottom to _very_ careful.

Bilba looked it over once he was finished, and satisfied with it she nodded and vanished.

As she headed to the upper levels to look for the ingredients she needed she heard screaming. It was guttural and she went stock still as she recognized the harsh sounds of black words. There was an orc. Every inch of her wanted to run, wanted to flee and hide away in the dungeons.

Azog still haunted her dreams.

If he was here, she had no more time.

She swallowed hard and pushed herself onward towards to source of the shouting.

There was a black orc being dragged into the throne room, an elf she had identified as Legolas, had a blade to his throat. Tauriel came running past her from the dungeons. She hardly had the chance to jump out of her way.

Her blood was cold in her veins. She stood, back against a wall, as Thranduil stepped down from his throne. "Tell me, why are you in my lands?"

The orc spat at his feet and Legolas pressed the blade so that it drew blood. Thranduil held up a hand to stop him.

"I shall ask once more. Your people have burned and cut down our trees along your trek. By all rights, I should kill. I'm willing to negotiate. What is your purpose here?"

He snarled. "We come in search of the fool, Oakenshield. He comes through your wood. Tell us how long since he passed and we will spare your realm more damage."

He gave him a look like he was actually considering it. "Oakenshield, fool as he may be, would not dare come into my kingdom. He knows well to avoid my people, as mine know to avoid his. You, orc, seem to be the foolish one."

"Does the Great Thranduil allow dwarves through his domain unnoticed? Has he slipped so far into the darkness and his sickness that he is blind?"

Not even a slight twitch betrayed him. "If they dare travel then they travel around. I am tempted to let you return to your master, orc. Who do you serve?"

He smirked. "I know the smell of dwarf. They came by your roads. Roads covered in darkness. I serve the One, and it is his darkness that lies here, and it is his power that led me here."

"I see," he said calmly and walked over to him. In a flash the blade that Legolas held was in Thranduil's hand and the orc's head was rolling across the floor. "Have the rest of them disposed of." He turned to Tauriel then, "See that the guard is doubled along the road, and increased along the western and southern borders of the realm. We shall have no more orcs here."

"Yes, sir," she nodded and hurried away.

"What of the dwarves?" Legolas asked.

"What of them?"

As soldiers began to march up the hall Bilba fled ahead of them to where she hoped the herbs she needed were kept. She had no time to waste.

* * *

It took her two days to find everything, and in the early morning hours of Mereth-en-gilith she put her plan into action. The guard with the keys would come in the evening. She'd heard him complaining about having to miss most of the party. He would, as usual, be drinking his wine. Bilba snuck down and fixed enough of the bottles with the draught that it would be impossible for him to choose one that wouldn't knock him out.

She had mixed it up _very_ strong.

Luck was on her side.

It took barely a minute to take effect over him and he slumped over in his chair. She stared at him for a long moment, and very nearly reached out to shake him. Oh. Oh, dear she hoped it wasn't _too_ strong.

She wrung her hands in her shirt before she reached out and nicked the keys. High on adrenaline she ran.

She found Thorin first, on her way back up. "Shh," she hissed at him. "They're having a party tonight. No one is going to be around for a while yet. So be very quiet and follow me," she said unlocking his door.

She grabbed him by the sleeve and tried to pull him along. And really, she should have been bothered by the way he pulled her into his arms when they were on such a tight schedule, but it felt too nice to care for that moment. "You're brilliant," he whispered.

"I haven't gotten you out yet, so save the compliments." She pulled Sting out of her belt and pushed it into his hands. "Just, if someone does come after us I can vanish. I don't want you unarmed."

She hushed the dwarves as she released them and they each gathered together with their families. Fili nearly knocked her over to grab Kili. Thorin couldn't hold back a laugh as he grabbed both of them. Fili broke away and crushed Bilba, a bit too roughly, into his chest.

"I told you I'd bring Kili to you."

"I didn't doubt you for a second, namad."

She smiled but pushed him down the hall. "We don't have much time. Come on, come on."

When Thorin saw her great idea he nearly wanted to take back his claims of her brilliance. She was going to drown them.

"Please," she begged to a stiff and complaining company. "Just get into the barrels before someone notices you're gone!"

She was met with glares and refusal. She turned to Thorin, pleading and desperate. Even if the idea worried him, it was their only chance. "Do as she says," he ordered and started towards the barrels and helped make sure everyone was in and the lids closed tightly. "What about you?"

"There's no time for that. Get into the barrel, Thorin."

"How are you going to get out?"

"I have that all sorted out. Don't worry. Now for the love of the Mother, get into that barrel, Thorin!" She stamped a foot and pushed him by the shoulders. Of course, she had absolutely nothing sorted out and hadn't even thought of how to get into her own barrel.

"Bilba," he started.

"Don't fight me on this. Please, don't fight me. Just do what I'm telling you, you stubborn dwarf. Gods, Thorin. There is no more time!"

He hesitantly moved to climb in, but stopped and turned back to her.

"Thorin!"

He kissed her before sliding in. "Be careful," he said before she fitted his lid. Her hands shook as she looked around scared the guard would wake any moment, or someone would notice their escape.

It was now or never. With a deep breath she pulled the lever and they all plummeted into the river. Bilba clung to the outside of Thorin's barrel, terrified that if she let go she'd be swept under and drown.

From the first moment her head went under she was reminded precisely why hobbits avoided water.

She screamed and water filled her mouth.

This was the stupidest idea she'd ever had.


	5. Foolhearted, Softhearted, Wholehearted

Chapter Five – Foolhearted and Softhearted and Wholehearted

* * *

She was cold and sopping wet. It was the end of autumn and she could hardly feel her hands. What a lucky day it was too. The first snows of winter were starting to come down.

And Thorin had the _audacity_ to grumble at her?! If she hadn't been about to fall over she would have slapped him. "I'm sorry? You're alive, aren't you? And you're out of prison. Now, you can help me get the others out of their barrels, so that we can all go to your dragon infested mountain. The mountain that you, not me, mind you, wanted to go to!" She hit him on the shoulder as she stumbled by to pry open the rest of the lids.

Thorin, still grumbling, followed.

One by one battered dwarves, and some half-drowned ones, climbed free, each more unhappy than the last. Bilba was growing steadily less and less angry and more and more weak. She couldn't keep up any kind of anger. She just wanted to lie down.

When they were all sprawled on the bank Thorin finally took note of her. Dejected, drowned, and in much worse condition than the rest having ridden outside of the accursed barrels. Damn her for lying. He should have put her in a barrel himself.

He pulled up a smile. "I am sorry," he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You're brilliant." And behind her again, like some kind of sign, there it was. Erebor. Thorin couldn't contain himself. He grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. "You are brilliant!"

And really, she should have objected to being lifted and spun around like a girl in spring, but bother it all. She put her hands on his shoulders and let him make an ass out of the pair of them, even if it made her incredibly dizzy.

"We're nearly there," he said as she touched ground... and promptly collapsed into his chest.

"Sss-ss-sorry," she stuttered, pulling herself up by his shoulders.

Joy vanished for the sake of concern. "Bilba?"

"I'm ff-fine," but a blind man could tell she was shaking. With the adrenaline high gone from her system she was crashing and fast.

Bofur shook his head. "No, lass. Your lips are turning blue! We've got to you warmed up!"

"Start a fire," Thorin barked and pulled his furs around her. "Do we have anything dry?"

Bofur said something to Bifur, who had stayed mostly dry. He shucked off his outer layer and passed it over. Dwalin tossed over a green cloak he'd managed to keep hold of. Bofur chewed his lips. Bilba was wracked with another fit of shivers and clung to Thorin's shoulder for support. "We've got to get her out of those clothes," he told him.

Thorin nodded.

Gloin still had his tinderbox and had been trying to light to a pile of sticks that was quickly growing as the company came out of the trees with more and more dry wood. Thorin held Bilba away from his chest and looked her over. "Can you change on your own?"

"I-I-" she fumbled with numb fingers and failed to undo even one button.

He reached out and took her hands in his. She was colder than death.

"Bofur," he said. Bilba tried to stand on her own but wobbled. Thorin caught her under the arm.

"Aye," Bofur frowned. "Do you trust me to help you? I won't if'n you don't want me to. I'll understand."

Bilba nodded. "I-I trust yyy-you." She was too cold to care about modesty, her brain was too waterlogged to even give it a thought. Even if it wasn't she would have seen the sense in it. She was about to freeze to death.

"The rest of you turn your backs," Bofur said to the company. "Give the lass some privacy." Not that any would have ever dared look when she was at her lowest point. Still, they stayed turned. Thorin held her upright as Bofur stripped her down and dried her off with Dwalin's cloak and dressed her in Bifur's rough shirt that hung to her knees. "Alright, Bilba. You feeling better now?" He ushered her close to the fire and sat her down. Thorin wrapped her again in his furs.

Sensing it was safe, the company turned to see their savior. Fili and Kili immediately flanked her, pressing close and offering warmth which she gladly took, resting her head on Fili's shoulder.

"Namad, are you alright?" Fili said. Bilba couldn't answer through the chattering.

"Namad," Balin said with a nod. "That's fitting."

Kili smiled. "It's perfect. I always wanted a little sister."

Thorin gave Fili a pat on the shoulder. She'd earned a place in this family several times over.

"Soon as she's warm we need to make for the town," Dwalin said.

"Agreed. It's too open here and too close to the elves," Gloin said.

Then the coughing started. It racked her already quivering frame. It was soon followed by sneezing, and despite the chill they decided it was better to move her now to somewhere with four walls than sit another moment in the wilderness and the falling snow. It was only going to get darker and colder.

"Fili," she mumbled as she walked hooked between the brother's arms, "You smell like apples."

He gagged. "Don't remind me. I'll never eat another apple as long as I live. I'm outlawing them as soon as I'm king. My barrel reeked of them. If I never smell another apple again it'll be too soon."

Thorin and Balin led the way, talking amongst themselves. "If I remember correctly, there ought to be a village before we reach the lake."

Thorin nodded. "It may still be there. We can only hope."

As it happened it was not. So they trudged on until they reached the Long Lake and the bridge that led into it's center where a town floated on the water. "We'll have you somewhere to rest soon," Fili promised.

"Riding outside of a barrel doesn't really constitute as a plan," Kili quietly scolded her. Thorin made a noise ahead of them. At least now he didn't have to say it, though he'd still likely have words with her later.

"It w-was my only choice."

"I know," he frowned. "I'm sorry. We're all just worried about you, is all."

"I don't need wor-wuh," she sneezed. "Worrying after," she finished.

Fili smirked. "You've been worrying after us for how long now? It's our turn to take care of you."

* * *

As they approached the guards over the bridge most of the company stiffened. Most had been too young to know Esgaroth, and those who did remember it recalled it as something much less... dark.

"Who are you? What brings you here?" The guards had their hands resting by the swords.

Thorin took a deep breath and held his head high. "I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain." And he sounded like it. Even in torn clothes and with knots in his hair, even through the swimming in her head, Thorin sounded like a king. "We have returned to reclaim what is ours. I would meet with your master."

There were excited murmurs from nearby townspeople. The rumors spread like wildfire.

"And who are the rest of these?" The guard asked with a raised eyebrow.

"My heirs, my kin, and my company," Thorin said nodding back towards them. "I see no need for your hostility," he said looking at the captain's hand on his sword. "We come unarmed. We are with injured and sick. Take us to your master."

The man nodded after a moment. "Follow me then."

There was a crowd gathered before they reached the center of town and the whispers of a prophecy followed them down the streets.

* * *

Whatever transpired once they got to the center of town was a blur to Bilba. Thorin made some kind of ridiculous speech (which got them dinner so she couldn't complain) and there were a lot of cheers from the townspeople. She had no idea what this prophecy nonsense was about. Oin seemed particularly happy about all of it as he poked and prodded her at the table. Apparently there were songs and poems. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes, and made her open her mouth so he could see down her throat. "There's no spots. That's good. You need food, and a lot of rest. Tell me, are you feeling queasy at all?"

"No."

Oin nodded. "Good, good. Well eat and we'll see about finding a place to rest after."

Thorin watched her from his place next to the Master at the head of the table. The Master only wished to speak of gold and trade, and Thorin indulged him. He'd already provided them a house, and promised to provide provisions. Thorin's fist clenched and unclenched in his lap. He wondered how long it would be before he started asking for obscene amounts of payment. All he really cared about in that moment was how Bilba coughed and sneezed, sandwiched between Dwalin and Kili.

She must have dozed off at the table because she jolted straight up in her chair as Dwalin roared with laughter beside her. She took a look around the table. Bofur was a tick beyond drunk and singing some obscene song about beards and breasts. Gloin was having some kind of drinking contest with Nori. She turned to Kili beside her, but he was gone. Instead the empty seat was quickly filled with Balin who had just wandered down from the head of the table.

"You alright there, lass?"

"Better," she said. It wasn't true, but at least she wasn't as cold as before.

"They've given as a place to stay. Thorin wants me to take you over, if you're done eating that is."

She nodded. "As done as I will be."

"Alright," he said and gathered up a few more of the group. Dwalin, Ori, Oin and Bifur decided to turn in.

Once outside the bitter air went right through her. Bifur said something and put a hand on her back to guide her. She remembered how to sign a thank you. Bifur nodded with a smile and made sure she didn't step off of the walkways.

Ori was giddy as they made it through the streets and clung to Dwalin's arm. "You've had too much to drink, lad."

"I have not. Look, we're so close to the mountain! I'm excited is all."

He smirked. "You're just excited your brother'll be away a few hours yet."

* * *

The house was large enough to hold thirteen dwarves and a hobbit but not much else. Bilba fell into a bed upstairs and was immediately dead to the world. She didn't notice as Oin gave her another a look over to make sure she was alright. She didn't realize she had woken up just long enough for someone to lift her head from the pillow and for Oin to pour some concoction down her throat. She slept clear through a very loud row downstairs, and possibly the breaking of a chair over Dwalin's head before Dori was restrained. She slept through the next morning as the dwarves came in and out of her room to check on her and offer her thanks for saving them yet again.

When she did finally wake up it was afternoon. Bombur made her as much soup as she could hold and the company sat and kept her company in her room, telling all kinds of old stories. Gloin had a hundred tales of the mishaps of his son Gimli, but Fili had even more about he and his brother.

She couldn't stay awake through all of it, occasionally dozing off, but she laughed with them and complained when they tried to take care of her.

She coughed and sneezed and whined her way through several days in her little room in Esgaroth. All the while the dwarves brought her anything should even dared think about, and several things she didn't want (namely Oin's medicines).

She vaguely remembered waking up once with her hand in Thorin's, like those nights in the halls of Mirkwood. She woke up again as he stood up from the edge of her bed.

"Thorin?"

"Go back to sleep," he said softly as he walked away.

"Wait."

He stopped and turned back to her.

"Sit down," she sat up and patted the bed. "I haven't been able to talk to you since we got here." He sat down, but with only the moonlight through a foggy window she couldn't make out his face. "What's been going on?"

She didn't see him grimace. "We've been in negotiations with the master here for supplies. We've met some trouble from the captain of his soldiers, but nothing we can't handle. The master doesn't seem fond of him so it hasn't been much trouble. I must admit I almost prefer his company to that of the master. But he does not want us to go to Erebor."

"So, we'll have supplies," she said, and he nodded. "How long is it until Durin's Day?"

"Let me worry about the mountain."

She frowned into the darkness. "I'll just worry about the dragon then, shall I?"

He winced. "It is eight days from now. We have plenty of time. Do not dwell on Smaug."

"How can I not?" She had a small coughing fit and Thorin handed her water from the table.

"I'll do all I can to see you're safe... But, you're the only one we can send down there."

She smiled to herself. "All this from the dwarf who swore not to be responsible for my safety or fate when we first began."

"I spoke too soon," he cracked a small smile of his own. "For a hobbit who has already changed all of our fates I'm willing to amend my previous statements."

"How generous." She started to reach for his hand when a yawn started and she covered her mouth instead.

"Go back to sleep," he said. "We'll talk later."

* * *

The next morning, almost a week later, she woke up with a clear head and, yes, she felt so much better today.

Or afternoon.

She rummaged around in the clothes she'd been loaned from the town children and found something suitable before venturing downstairs. The creak of the steps alerted the company. Before she could bother with them asking after her health she held up a hand. "Do we have anything to eat that isn't soup?"

Bombur set to cooking dinner as soon as Bilba came down. She sat at the table, smile on her face, as the company told her about how they were nearly ready to leave for Erebor. "A few more days," Balin said. "If you're well enough, that is."

"I'm much better, I promise." She gave the room a quick look over. "Where are Thorin, Dwalin and Gloin?"

Her question was met with pained groans around the table. She raised an eyebrow.

"Meeting with the Master," Balin informed her. "As he they have been coerced into doing every day this week."

"He's a slimy bastard," Fili said. "I don't like him." Everyone agreed. "The sooner we leave the better."

The door swung open to a trio of scowls. Fili flung out his arm to them, as if to show Bilba. At least Thorin's face brightened when he saw Bilba. Gloin threw up his hands, not even noticing her. "I cannot take another day of this."

Dwalin grunted in response and heaved himself down in a chair.

Thorin sat down beside Bilba. "You're up?"

"Hello to you too," she said. "Yes, I'm much better."

He looked her over, and pushed hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. She realized as he brushed it aside it had finally grown enough to tuck back. "Your color is much better."

"I'm sure Oin's medicine is to thank, awful as it tastes."

He smirked. "It is truly disgusting."

Bombur called for a few of them to help him bring out the dinner. While Bilba's appetite wasn't as big as any one wanted it to be, she ate until she was full and made herself comfortable by the fire. She pulled at her hair with her fingers and picked at knots. She made a face. It was probably going to cause some kind of ruckus, but she needed to ask. "I know you all have weird rules about hair, and I don't know any of them, but could someone lend a brush or a comb?"

"Fili or Kili could," Thorin said from his spot beside her.

"Oh?"

"Here," Fili said pulling a comb from out of his coat. "It's because you're our sister now. Only family get to share things like this."

"Yeah," Kili said and stretched out by the fire. "There's nothing you can do to get rid of us now."

She smiled. "Thank you," she said. She wasn't really sure what to say. "I couldn't ask for better brothers."

"Dwalin and I consider you family too, lass," Balin said.

"Aye."

"Us as well," Gloin said and clapped his brother on the shoulder who hadn't caught a word of what had been going on.

"Hmm?"

"Just say yes, you old bat."

"Ah, yes?"

Bilba laughed.

"Don't be forgettin' us," Bofur said. "You're as good as blood to us," he said swinging an arm around his brother and cousin. Bombur nodded, and Bofur said something in khuzdul to Bifur, who answered back and nodded too.

"Well, you're family here as well," Dori said.

"Us thieves have to stick together," Nori said with a wink.

"Of course you're family, Miss Bilba," Ori smiled.

And she was almost in tears, and she wore a smile so wide it could break her face. "I don't know what to say. Thank you. I'm... I'm lucky to have such a wonderful family."

"It seems you've been adopted without realizing. It isn't something dwarves do lightly," Thorin said and took the comb from Bilba's hands. "Allow me."

As he combed out her knotted curls it gave her the moment she needed to reign in her emotions. She never expected to wind up with a family here. She'd considered them family for a long time now, but she hadn't known it was reciprocated.

Thorin quietly separated her hair. The conversation around them was relaxed. A soft white noise in the background. He tried for complex braids that night.

The fingers in her hair began to lull her to sleep. She would sit there forever if she had the option. She covered her mouth as she yawned. "Tired?" he asked.

"Very relaxed, and maybe a little sleepy. But I'm not ready for bed yet."

"Braiding always put me to sleep as a kid," Kili said.

"It puts you to sleep now," Fili told him.

Thorin finished the end of her braids off and bound them with string. In the back of his mind an idea niggled. Bilba should have beads for her hair, for the braids he wove. She didn't need just ordinary beads one would buy from a merchant. He should make her some once he had the mountain back. Or, he could just give her his own.

That should have been a scary thought, but he meant it.

She yawned again and slumped back into him. "Sorry. I must be more tired than I thought."

"Let's get you to a bed then."

He helped her to her feet and up the stairs.

"Don't send Oin up here with more medicine," she begged at the door. "I can't take any more of that."

He huffed a small laugh. "I can't make any promises."

She frowned at him. "Well, uhm, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

The sun was high when Bilba woke up. She felt as good as she did the day before this entire journey began, except for that fact she had just been woken up by what sounded like a small army. She contemplated throwing a pillow over her head and trying to wait out the noise, but eventually groaned and sat up.

She came down the stairs to the dwarves splitting up supplies and packing them into new packs.

"Good morning, Miss Bilba," Ori called.

"Surely it's afternoon. What's all this?" she asked and stepped up next to Thorin who was overlooking the packing.

"We're all ready for our departure," Balin said.

"We've got all the supplies we need?" she asked, pressing into Thorin's side.

He wrapped his arm around her. "We do."

And while a dragon hung over their heads, the end was in sight. The mountain would be within reach tomorrow. She bounced on her feet.

The company were excitedly talking and Bilba just stood up on her toes and caught Thorin unawares. She kissed him on the cheek, a simple peck that made him hum and Kili gag. "No, no! My innocent eyes!"

Bilba laughed.

It wasn't Bilba's intention to put on a show, it really wasn't. Mostly, she wanted to make Kili uncomfortable. She kissed Thorin on the mouth as the company turned to see what the boy was fussing about.

And then Dwalin wolf whistled.

And Dori made quite a sharp _ahem_.

And her Baggins side suddenly took hold and she blushed clear to her toes and hid behind a chair.

Gloin broke into a thunderous laugh, and a number of heads hung in shame. "Alright, lads. Pay up!"

"You-you bet on _that_!" Bilba shrieked. She ran off and shut herself in her room in a flurry. Oh, oh! Drat it all. She hadn't meant to do that at all really. She was just _happy_... and a _hobbit_, after all. That's what hobbits did when they were happy and liked someone. Oh, she went and got carried away. Her head met the wall and she wanted to go home and hide in her bed.

Thorin rubbed his forehead and Gloin smirked as he dropped a hand on his shoulder. "You just gonna let her run off?"

Thorin just grumbled.

"Come on now. You finally got caught, what of it?"

"There was nothing to catch," he said.

"Right, she just kissed you without warning. No pretense or nothing. Cousin, I am married. I know how this game goes."

* * *

Thorin didn't do romantic. He's never done it before, so why should he start now? He was 195 years old and never bothered to court anyone. That isn't to say he'd never known the pleasures another could bring, but he'd never been in love.

This hobbit had thrown a wrench into everything, hadn't she.

Just... kissing him like it were nothing, and it was the world to him.

She had ventured out of her room some time ago, and thankfully the company was too preoccupied with checking supplies and making plans to search the mountain for it's secret door to bother saying anything about the incident. Bilba, who had gotten quite involved in the conversation about the secret door, and was leaning back in her chair with a scowl. She and Gloin were not seeing eye to eye on the matter and it had resulted in a bit of a shouting match. Now she was just refusing to take part in the discussion at all.

"Bilba, may we speak? In private?"

She nodded and he motioned for her to follow him outside. She was just glad to be away from the table. She made sure to fix Gloin with another glare before she left, and he just scoffed and mumbled, "She's more stubborn than my boy."

They sat on the docks that evening for a moment of peace. Bilba blew smoke rings out over the water, her bad mood slowly melting away. Thorin spent more time looking at her than the mountain, and what did that say. He'd yearned his whole life to be back in the presence of his home, and now all he wanted to do was look at Bilba and memorize the wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes, and the curve of her throat. The exact colors of her. Eyes and lips and skin.

Thorin, forgetting that his thoughts were completely internal, simply blurted out. "Stay."

"Hmm?"

"After we retake Erebor. You're welcome to stay here, you know."

She lowered her pipe and watched the water. "I might," she nodded. "But, I'll have to go back to the Shire someday, I'm sure."

"You can stay for as long as you want, and will forever be welcome here." _If you never left, I would be happy._

She nodded and smiled over at him. "I'd be foolish to refuse such an offer." She looked out to the horizon. "It must be beautiful," she said quietly. "Fili and Kili have told me a lot of stories, ones you told them when they were younger. Hobbits don't care much for gold and jewels, but we love beauty in it's many forms. And what I know of Erebor is the beauty of the hearts it bore."

"Careful, burglar, or I'll kiss you in front of the entire town. You'll embarrass yourself so much you might faint."

She pushed his shoulder. "I didn't mean to get carried away. It was just the moment. Kili looked so scandalized," she laughed.

"He's spent half his life far too invested in my personal life," he said and hung his head.

"Why is that?"

"He seems to think, much as my sister does, that it is ridiculous I am unmarried, and unattached."

Bilba snorted. "Story of my life, Thorin. Only I have a more than a dozen cousins and aunts and uncles hounding me." She looked over at him. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but, did you ever think you'd be married? Or were you always just meant to go it alone?"

"No, I don't suppose I ever did. May I ask the same?"

"Oh, I fooled around a lot when I was young and I courted one boy, but not exactly because I wanted to. I wanted to make my father happy. And, I don't know, he was a nice boy and he liked me. I just can't say the same for myself. It was actually," she laughed something that sounded too close to a sob for her own liking. "It was kind of upsetting really. I wanted to liked him back. I wanted to be like every other girl my age. This was nearly 20 years ago now, just as I came of age. I was actually quite depressed after I broke it off. It wasn't my best moment."

"You shouldn't have forced yourself into something like that."

"It wasn't as bad as I'm making it sound. Hob was very nice about the whole thing. I told him from the start I didn't think it would work out well, but I'd try anyway. My first and last. I'm not sad about it anymore, of course. It's been a long time."

* * *

Like most hobbits, Bilba had several flings with young boys in the Shire. Kisses behind the barns, and tumbles in haystacks. But she never really felt an attachment. Nothing more than friendship.

A few had tried to court her, and she turned them all away, save for one.

She wasn't even sure why she let him in. Why she tried. Maybe she wanted to pretend for a while. Maybe she just wanted to make her father happy. Maybe she wanted to feel normal and ordinary for once.

Hobson Gamgee was five years her senior. He was simple and kind. A roper. Bungo liked him well enough. He wanted better for his daughter, as all fathers did, but Hob was a good boy. He didn't have the same money as a Baggins or a Took, but he had a big heart.

Bilba entertained him, as any proper young lady should, but they both knew it wasn't to be. Hob liked her, wondered if he loved her, but he knew she didn't return that feeling. She smiled and remembered their childhood. She remembered running in the fields with him as a tween, and remembered when he accidentally split her lip. He remembered she blacked his eye for it. They laughed over tea and she thanked him for coming.

"Thank you, Hob. Truely. I'm sorry, you know. I'm just... not made for all this. Not now anyway." She kissed him on the cheek, leaning against her front gate, something sad settling in her breast. "Don't wait for me, Hob. You'll never forgive yourself for it. And nor will I."

And the sun set behind her like a halo, and the wind was in her curls. Hob kissed her once, almost like a farewell. "I know, Bilba. And I wish you all the happiness in the world."

She hugged him tight. "And you know I wish it for you as well."

He stood back and nodded. "Good evening, Bilba."

"Good evening, Hob."

They parted, and she told her father that it wasn't to be. She was finished looking. For in all of Hobbiton, and all the Shire, no one quite completed her. She was not unhappy, she assured him. She was most happy and content here on her own. If ever she wasn't she'd find a way to make herself happy.

Bungo just sighed, and smiled, and said okay.

He probably wouldn't have been so okay had he known that one day Bilba would be looking at a dwarf and thinking maybe him. Maybe he was who she had waited for to complete her. Who commanded her heart and filled her with longing.

Then again, Bungo may have agreed anyway. His daughter deserved a king, dwarvish or otherwise.

And that would certainly show that brother Longo of his a thing or two. He always thought he was so much better than Bungo because he had married a wild Took girl.

But Belladonna Took, oddness aside, was smart as a whip, kind, and loving. Trusting almost to a fault. And, damn respectability, he loved every odd trait of her's. Every bad habit and wild inclination. He loved that she strolled the woods at midnight and danced in the starlight. He loved that she behaved like she could care less what anyone thought. That she was the friend of wizards and elves and all manner of folk. She was a flower among a garden of stones. He loved her great tales. But, most of all, he loved her.

So maybe he'd have shook his head, blanched and muttered to himself that his daughter was positively batty, but maybe he would have smiled at her in private and told her he was happy for her. Happy that she found someone in the wild world she wanted to give her heart to after all these long years.

Looking over at Thorin, as he looked out at the Lonely Mountain, almost made her cry for how dearly she missed her father in that moment. She rubbed her eyes before Thorin looked back at her. The wind picked up and went right through her.

"Let's head back in before you catch another chill."

* * *

It was late, long after dinner and conversations and rechecking their packs. Bilba lingered outside of the door of her room that night, fingers sliding across the wall. What kind of silly child was she being, thinking about Thorin like a lovesick tween. She was 51. She heard the creak of the stairs and Thorin coming into the hall. "Bilba," he nodded.

"Thorin."

He stopped by her door and neither was sure who moved first, but if you know anything of Tooks, well, you can guess.

It wasn't exactly gentle, the way they fell into the bed and fought for dominance. The way Bilba struggled with Thorin's mail and his trousers, or the way Thorin fumbled with the buttons on her waistcoat. He pushed her hands away to pull off his mail while she was careful with her buttons and shucked off the little yellow vest.

For a moment Thorin wasn't sure if he should throw the key that had hung around his neck for months over his shoulder, of if he should take it off. In the end it fell to the floor and into their clothes.

He ran callused fingers under her shirt, along her sides and buried his head in the crick of her neck.

"This," she tried very hard not to sound quite so debauched. "This isn't just going to be some one night thing, is it?"

He slid her shirt up, up, and over her head before he kissed her collarbone. "No, I would very much like for this to last longer."

She hummed, oh practically purred, as Thorin kissed down her chest.

It was all wild passion and built up tensions. Bilba had to bite her knuckles not to cry out when Thorin's tongue teased her most sensitive parts.

Thorin was made of rock and metal. He was forged in the same fires he smithed in. He was wrought of the mountain. And she was all at once self-conscious and shied away. Middle-aged and soft, a round belly and stretch marks that ran down the curve of her hips. Pale lines that curled with her stomach and rode the inside of her thighs. There was an old scar on her arm where she fell from a tree. She was conscious of the acne on her back from too many days without a proper bath. The grit under her nails. Her dirty feet. Her fingers bore calluses she'd rather they didn't. She had wrinkles and more than a couple strands of gray in her hair, her braided curls.

She was just a hobbit, one who could barely grow weeds, and her only true skills fell in languages and wine.

And he was a king.

He was a king who regretted he could not yet treat her like the miracle she was. The goddess. He regretted that he loved her over his ragged furs spread on a bed that was not his own. That he could not craft for her with fine gems and gold. That his skills lay in blacksmithing and not in the delicate art of jewelry making, for she deserved eloquent slivers of silver in her golden curls and around the peaks of her ears. Rich rings and necklaces and bracelets that she would refuse to wear because she was a hobbit, and they loved the simple beauty of earth over metals and jewels.

He wanted to give her gardens.

He was loud, and course, and altogether too angry and bitter of a man to deserve her kindness and her smiles. There was not an inch of him that lacked a scar, a symbol of his bloody life. He was old and going gray. His back ached in the mornings, and his knees bothered him when it rained.

He was not suited to someone so... beautiful and amazing.

And he was sure he cared for her as much as his kin or any he'd ever known. Oh, he was sure he'd tripped up somewhere and foolhearted or softhearted he fell wholeheartedly in love.

It rose up out of nowhere and consumed him.

He slowly pressed into her until he was cradled in her thighs. She arched her back in a cold, damp house, while goosebumps that were not all from pleasure rose on her arms. And she covered her face so she wouldn't have to turn away.

"What is the matter, âzyungâl?"

"Why are you doing this with me? ...You're... you're a king, Thorin. You're royalty. I'm just some old maid."

He pulled her hands away from her face and kissed her. His hands slid lovingly over her hips, tracing the delicate maps of her history. "A king without a kingdom. No means, no security. You think too highly of an old dwarf."

"Thorin," she gasped as he rocked into her. She nodded silently for him to move faster. Harder. To make her fight back the screams of ecstasy bubbling behind her breast.

"You are my treasure. Ghivashel. Never doubt this."

"Please," she begged. "Thorin, I'm-" She turned her face into a pillow and muffled a moan.

She was clenched tight around him when he pulled away and spent himself across her stomach.

He laid carefully beside her, and spoke his hidden language into the soft skin of the crook of her neck. He said every word he feared to translate, and every word he was too scared to yet admit.

"What's that?" she muttered, pressing her lips to his head. "I'm making a rule that you have to translate your dumb language if you use it in bed."

His voice was a low rumble like thunder in his chest. "It would be bad luck," he said. "Tomorrow we may face our doom, and I would not burden you with this tonight."

"I would rather you burden me tonight, than risk never saying it at all."

He rose up on his elbow and looked at her. "Perhaps I will tell you in the morning."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Perhaps you'll tell me now," and it was more a demand than a request.

He laughed softly. "You're beautiful."

"You shouldn't joke about things like that."

He left a lingering kiss on her head before he eased back down onto his side and pulled her to his chest. "Mizim, you know that I don't joke much."

"What's that mean?"

"Jewel."

He could feel the heat of her face against his chest. "I had wanted to wait," he said, "until I had a kingdom worthy of you before I asked. It would be an honor if you would allow me to court you, Bilba Baggins."

She tried to curl up, tried to bury herself in his chest and hide. "You don't just ask that of an old spinster. You're a king."

"You're making this argument a lot today. It is hardly a matter of importance."

"Hardly a... Thorin!"

"How much convincing will it take to make you say yes?"

She looked up at him and kissed his on the nose, "Perhaps you should ask me in the morning."


	6. Friends from Ravenhill

Chapter Six – Friends from Ravenhill

* * *

When he braided her hair that morning he worked slowly, unready to leave bed. Unready to go to Erebor and seek out the hidden door.

He would have to send her down to the lair of a dragon that may yet be alive.

Bilba was sitting up in bed, tucked between his knees, and this time he braided her hair in a specific pattern he had never braided before, but he'd seen it done. It was simple. Two braids were started just above the ears and crossed behind her hair and joined in a knot. He unclasp the beads from his hair and fixed them in her own. When he re-braided his own hair he bound it with twine. "A symbol," he told her. "I have given away my beads, and all will know we are courting. That I concede myself to you."

She smiled. "I don't have anything to give you. If we were in the Shire I'd, well, I'd make you dinner, but that would feel inadequate."

"It would be perfect," he said. "And you are not expected to give me anything in return. At least not for a quite a while."

She turned around and kissed him. "Well, I haven't a clue how these dwarven customs go, but I'll cherish these. And as soon as I have a kitchen to use I'll make you that dinner."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

They didn't have much time to themselves that morning. They met with the Master very early and left the town to much fanfare. Near to the docks stood a tall, grim man who spoke to Thorin in a familiar tone. Bilba paused next to them and listened, even though Thorin gave her shoulder a slight push to tell her to move on.

"I will warn you once more not to enter that mountain," he said in a low tone.

"And I will tell you again that no one shall keep me from my birthright. When the mountain is retaken you stand to profit as much as I, Bard. Trade will rebuild Dale, and you are its heir."

"You will bring the dragon down on us," he warned. "You will all die and the lake will burn."

Thorin ignored him and got into the boat.

"What do you mean?" Bilba asked.

The man frowned. "You're the hobbit they spoke of?"

"Yes. Bilba Baggins," she said with a nod.

"I am Bard," he said with a small incline of his head. "I'm captain of the soldiers here." He looked out past the lake and towards Erebor. "The dragon still lives. I have seen his smoke rising from the mountain. If you care for your companions, then I implore you, convince them not to enter the mountain. Like most of this town, they only wish to see the good in the prophecy and not the dark."

"The dark?"

"The lake will burn before Smaug is dead." He looked down at her, his face somber.

"Bilba," Thorin called. "It is time to leave."

She nodded absently and started away, still looking back at Bard.

"Do not enter Erebor."

Thorin took her by the arm and helped her into the boat, but sent a glare back at the man.

* * *

The moment they left the dock Bilba's stomach dropped and Bard's words were forgotten. She hated the water. True, being in a boat wasn't as bad as riding a barrel, but she hated being out in the open water. A river she could manage, but out on the Long Lake... This was just completely senseless. They could have easily gone around. She planted herself dead center of the boat and refused to move.

"So," Kili sidled up to her. "You and Uncle?"

"Yes, me and your uncle," she said. She knew this was coming.

Bofur leaned back to inspect her hair. "He did a nice job," he said before he looked towards Thorin, who was at the head of the boat talking with Balin and Dwalin. "I get to question him though."

"What?" she looked at him. "About what?"

"His intentions, naturally," he crossed his arms. "You're family, and that's what family does. We make sure you're not getting into any kind of trouble."

Kili pretended to look taken aback.

Gloin leaned back with a smirk and folded his hands behind his head. "If anyone gets to speak for the lass it should be me. I'm the only one out of you lot who has ever had a successful courtship 'cept for Bifur."

"Yes, and if I have to hear another story about Gamil or your courtship I will throw you into the lake," Oin said sharply, and pointed at the water. "If anything drove me deaf it was that."

"Pah!" Gloin elbowed his brother.

Bifur signed a few things and Bofur laughed. "Bifur says he'd be happy to speak for you, Bilba, only the speaking part might be a problem."

"She's my sister!" Fili objected. "I get a say, you know."

Bilba rolled her eyes. "We're both adults. This is silly," but no one listened to her.

"It's improper," Dori said. "Courting so soon. You hardly know one another."

"You're only saying that because you're mad about Ori," Kili said.

"Ori should be lucky I didn't leave him in the town. And Dwalin should be glad to have his life," he said much too loudly while glaring up at the dwarf. Ori winced where he sat in the back of the boat.

Bilba looked between Kili and Bofur. "I take it Dori found out?" Bilba whispered to Bofur.

"Oh, there was a huge row the first night we got to the lake," Bofur said. "I'm surprised it never woke you up."

"Are they courting?" Bilba whispered again, not quite sure why she felt the need to. Perhaps she was just scared of the rage slowly boiling in Dori's eyes.

Bofur shook his head. "Not yet. I reckon they will though."

"Over my dead body!" Dori snapped.

Nori had taken hold of Dori's shoulder and forced him to sit down. "You're going to get someone knocked into the lake."

"If you don't let go of me I will knock _you_ into the lake," he hissed, but did settle back down.

Dwalin was surprisingly calm about the situation. He looked at Dori with a smirk before giving Ori a horrendously lewd wink that had the older dwarf turning purple. Nori didn't look much better. "Poison is a better option, brother," he whispered.

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled something, and Balin was hanging his head in shame.

"I think we should talk about something else," Bilba said.

"Fine," Kili said. "You're going to explain what happened with my uncle."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Leave her alone, Kili," Thorin said from the front of the boat.

"Oh, come on," he whined. "You know if Mom was here Bilba would be getting questions about everything, even down to the mysterious knocking sound last night."

Bilba wanted to die.

* * *

They tied the boat to the shore and loaded up on their packs.

The dwarves took one look at the lands around the mountain and frowned. Bilba, on the other hand, didn't so much. There among the charred remains of trees and the bare soil she nodded. "It's better than I was expecting," she said with hope in her voice.

Dwalin called her crazy, but Balin stepped up beside her. "How so?"

"I was expecting the land to be beyond repair, or at least something that would take a lot of work to fix... and it will, but it's healing. I'm no gardener, but look here," she crouched down and touched what looked to them to be a little weed just barely sprouting. "A bit of life. Where there's life there's hope, my father always said. Once we know the dragon is gone all it'll take is a bit of love. This land will be green again."

Ori crouched down across from her to look at it. "It's awfully small."

"All things are when they start off. Even the mountains began as hills." She stood up and looked around. "I'm not familiar with the plants that grow here, but I think that's going to be a tree."

Balin smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Where there's life there's hope. That's a good saying. Yes, I believe that might be a good motto for a new Erebor."

"We've got to retake her first," Dwalin said.

"That we must," Thorin said, "But there is nothing wrong with a little hope in this desolation."

The closer they got to the mountain they saw several gaunt, black crows watching them from the remnants of the charred trees. "They have an ill look about them," Oin said. "I don't like them. They're ominous. Birds like that, they're spies of evil."

Occasionally one would let out a shrill cry as they passed. Kili was tempted to shoot a few with his bow, but Gloin put a hand hand on his arm to stop him. "Bad luck, lad. We don't need any of that here."

The sky grew darker as they came up to Erebor. If not for the bone dry air, Bilba would have sworn it was going to rain. Despite how heavy the clouds looked she knew not a drop would fall. She wasn't sure if she was glad of that or not.

They camped at the base of the mountain. No one mentioned it when Thorin set his sleeping roll down beside Bilba's, though Kili may have snickered.

After most of the company had fallen asleep Thorin was still awake, sitting by Bilba's sleeping side. They would have two days to scout and find the door. Thorin worried it would not be enough. His eyes searched the stone late into the night.

"If you don't sleep it'll be harder tomorrow," Balin said.

He nodded quietly, but didn't look away. "It's almost strange to be back," he said. "Can you remember it, Balin? Would we get lost or would we recall the halls as we did as boys?" There was something light in his voice. Something happy.

"It's been a long time. We might get lost, but we'll find our way. I remember tracking you, Dwalin, and Frerin down well enough. You three were always getting into trouble."

He sighed. "I wish he could have seen it again."

"So do I."

Thorin looked over his shoulder where his nephews slept. "They remind me of him everyday."

Balin huffed a small laugh. "Those two were never as bad as you and your brother."

He smiled. "True enough, but at least I never set my brother on fire."

"That was one time!" Fili shot from under his blanket.

"It was twice. Go to sleep," Thorin said softly.

"It was an accident," he said to anyone who was listening. Balin just laughed at him.

Thorin looked at Bilba as she shivered. He pulled her blanket higher over her shoulders.

"I did wonder how long it would take," Balin said.

"You're as bad as Kili."

"All your life you've never let anyone get close to your heart, and now you let her in. I wonder if Oin was right."

"About what?"

"Portents."

Thorin shook his head. "Portents must be taken with a grain of salt."

"I agree, but you smile more easily these days, and it's not just because of the mountain. What happened in the dungeons? Something changed between you two."

And he didn't speak for a minute. He started going backwards trying to pinpoint one moment, but there wasn't one. There were times before Mirkwood and the dungeons. Everything had built up. It had built up since Azog, or even before, and Balin seemed to understand that.

"The turning point, lad." The tipping point. When had she become that rock he tied himself to. And he did know.

He'd spent those weeks in that dark cell knowing that his company was alive. His family and friends were captured, but safe. Except for Bilba. She was lost somewhere in those woods. She was somewhere dark and cold, and full of spiders and horrors he could not dream of. She was alone. He spent a long time fearing she was dead. When he saw her face he thought he'd seen a ghost. He was scared that his nightmares were now haunting his waking hours.

But she was real.

"I failed this company in Mirkwood, and I failed us in Thranduil's kingdom," he said. "She was dead on her feet, but she still smiled and promised she would get us free. I believed her. I doubt I would have believed anyone else who made those promises." He looked down at her and her calm face. He hoped her dreams would be easy tonight. "She gave me hope when I had none left. I could not let myself fail her, not when she'd done so much for me. Not after she'd come back again. When I could help no one else I was able to help her, even if it was in small ways. She needed comfort and I could give that. I wanted to, and I keep wanting to."

"That's love," he said.

Thorin nodded. It was. "She is infuriatingly reckless and stubborn sometimes."

"And so are you," Balin noted.

"I don't think I'd change it for anything."

* * *

They fanned out early the next morning, each wandering alone along the western side of the mountain. Some time near to noon Bilba had stopped and was staring up at a section of rocks, following them up and down the mountain side. She had taken Thorin's map and occasionally looked down at it, and then back to the mountain as if she could actually find any answers to her questions on the paper. There were none, and she cursed dwarves, not for the first time, for their secretiveness.

Nori noticed her staring as he passed. "What is it?"

She made a face. "Do those rocks look a little too well placed? Almost like they're meant to be climbed, not just that they could be..." She cocked her head and looked at the map again and, surprisingly, continued to find no answers. "It's not like it looks easy to climb. I could just be seeing things."

"I don't see it," he said and followed her gaze.

He was about ten feet away, on a slightly higher patch of ground. Bilba walked over to where he stood and looked. "No, see, you can't see it here... Come here. Look," she pointed into the rocks. "They almost perfectly stagger if you look from just this spot. Kind of like..."

"Stairs," he said. And standing a bit taller then her he could just see what looked like a ledge. "Excellent work," he congratulated. "Oi!" he shouted with his hands cupped over his mouth. "I think Bilba's found something!"

* * *

Bombur refused to climb the mountain. "I'll fall," he complained.

"You're going up," Bofur said and pushed him forward.

"It's too steep."

"If the rest of us can do it, so can you," Bofur said and shoved him again.

Thorin and Dwalin had already made it to the top, with Nori close behind, and Bilba not far behind him. She ground her teeth the entire way. She was never particularly afraid of heights, but being on the side of a cliff was a lot different than being in a tree. Dori was behind her though and kept promising he wouldn't let her fall.

At the top was a ledge large enough to hold all of them, and no sign of a door. Balin assured her that there wouldn't be any signs. It felt right though. Why else would there be a perfect ledge, or a staircase, as vague as it was. She only nodded. It had looked secret enough. She settled down and watched as the rest of the dwarves came up. Bombur's complaints could be heard all the way from the bottom.

"If you don't stop whining we'll tie a rope to you and haul you up," Dwalin shouted down. Bombur answered with something quite rude indeed.

Bilba climbed up on a large rock and sat high above the rest of them. Eventually, once Bombur and Bofur had made it up, they realized there really wasn't a point to having climbed up. Durin's Day wasn't until tomorrow.

They weren't sure what to do with themselves for the rest of the time. They sharpened their blades, and had dinner, and talked about treasure and gold and what they would do with their shares. Bilba ignored most of the conversation.

She'd thought of the gold, of course, but never of what to do with it all. Instead she focused on what was more pressing. Tomorrow she would have to gather her courage and enter the mountain. She had no idea how she should go about it. She didn't even know where the tunnel would end up. She may have to wander around lost until she actually found the treasury. She wasn't sure what to do if she were caught. Maybe the dragon was dead. Maybe that Bard fellow was wrong, though something in her bones knew she'd find Smaug down there.

No part of her wanted to listen to Bard's warnings though. She wanted to go into the mountain. Not just because it was her job. She had promised. She promised them she would bring them home and she wasn't about to give up right at the end.

She sat up on that rock up above all the dwarves, elbows on her knees, and head on her fists. Every so often she would sigh, sometimes quite softly but other times as heavy as a stone. If she were honest she was quite frustrated thinking about everything. She did not particularly want to find a dragon, and she did not think stealing from it would be wise. It wasn't as if she had any idea of how to get rid of the dragon. They may have made it to the mountain, but it wouldn't be theirs until Smaug was gone. They would have to kill him some way or other, and that seemed completely insurmountable. Maybe they could poison it? Could one poison a dragon?

If anyone looked up and asked what she was doing she would sigh again. "I am sitting and thinking, which is my job along with getting into the mountain and playing at being a burglar."

Dwalin frowned. He was tired of waiting. It was turning to night and they'd sat on this ledge for several hours already, and had another day to wait. "Bilba has that ring. Maybe she should go in the front gate and spy things out."

She looked down and glared at him. "I have put myself into enough danger for you all, if you've forgotten, and I still must go and burgle a dragon. It is not my job to do everything," she said irritably. "It is Durin's Day tomorrow, and so you will just have to wait. If we cannot get in here, then we will see about my going through the front gates."

"It was mostly a joke," he admitted. He at least had the decency to look a bit ashamed.

"Mostly," she scoffed.

"I wouldn't have sent you in the front alone."

"What? You'd go in as my bodyguard?" she asked.

"Yes."

She sighed, but gave him a fond look. "I appreciate the sentiment, but this is to be my job. I was brought with the intention that the dragon not realize he had dwarves coming for him. He doesn't need to know you're here."

Dwalin just groaned with boredom.

"Well, we have time to kill. Anyone have any stories?" Balin asked.

Gloin perked up. "Oh, I've got-"

Oin cut him off. "No one wants to here another story about your wife or your son. Mahal knows I love the boy, but he can be denser than rock."

Bofur looked up where Bilba was perched. "Our lass is a excellent storyteller."

Kili agreed. "You can tell them the fairy story," he said.

She shook her head. "You've heard that one already."

"We've got plenty of time to fill," Ori said. "I'd like to hear more of your stories."

"Yes, but I have others. If you'd all like to hear anyway."

"Go ahead." They all agreed.

"Okay," she said and rolled a few ideas around in her head. "I haven't told any stories of my mother yet, have I?" she asked mostly to herself. "She had her own adventures when she was young, but by far her best was her adventure to Rivendell."

"Not an elf story," Dwalin complained.

"It doesn't focus on them," she said. "And besides, you'll like it. My mother succeeded where they couldn't."

Thorin started a crack a bit of a smile. "If your mother can outsmart elves then I think I may like this story."

"Okay. Well, first I should start with one of her sayings, I suppose. It's a dangerous business, Bilba, going out your door," she quoted. "You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to. There are great adventures out there. There are wizards and elves in faraway places. The Shire may seem big, she would always tell me, but is it only a very small piece of a very big world."

"What was her name?" Ori asked.

"Belladonna."

"That's familiar," Nori said. "What's that?"

"It's poison," Oin said.

Bilba nodded. "Yes, that's a Took family for you. Many of her brothers were named for warriors, and she was named for a poisonous plant."

"What were you named for then?" Fili asked.

She waved her hand around. "That is a different story, and a boring one. Anyway, Gandalf showed up at her door one day and fascinated her with stories of the world until she was begging to leave with him on a journey. That had been his plan all along though. After my uncle Hildifons never came back my grandmother forbid Gandalf to ask any of her children to leave. He thought it was a cleaver loophole, and so did my grandda," she laughed. "First they traveled into Bree with a ranger as an escort. A great, big, quiet man. They parted ways in the city and on they traveled. The second night after, that's when they heard it. The howls of wolves. My mother had nothing to protect herself with, save for her walking stick. 'If a wolf did attack,' Gandalf told her, 'That stick would do nothing but make it angry,'" Bilba said in her best Gandalf impression.

"Did the wolves come?" Kili asked.

"Three nights later, when my mother was half asleep at their camp, four great, gray wolves came for them. One grabbed my mother's skirts and tore them as she screamed at them to get away, but with one shout of a spell, flash!" She spread her arms wide and made a bursting motion with her hands. "Gandalf blew them all away! They made it the rest of the way to Rivendell without any more incidents, and that is when Gandalf finally revealed to her the true reason for their journey.

"There was a very sick human woman that even Elvish magic could not save. She was very important, my mother said, not for her own deeds, but a descendant of her's would someday bring peace to the world. Even Gandalf would not explain the details to her. With elves, though, some have the gift of foresight and can see the future in some fashion. That is how they found the woman, ill and wandering in the north. They brought her to Rivendell to be saved. There was but one hope for her in all the world. A magic flower. But none of the elves were able to make it grow. Hobbits though, we are particularly skilled in growing things. My mother promised she would do everything in her power to save the woman. But growing is a slow process, and she didn't have much time. Magic could speed it up, but only the hands of someone who knew the earth could plant the seed and care for it properly."

"Did it grow?" Ori asked.

"For many days they all worried. It would not grow in the elvish gardens. They had only two seeds left to try. One was planted high, high up on a rooftop terrace." Bilba raised her hand. "And the other my mother took out of the valley to grow in a place not touched by the elves. But it was dangerous. Not only for the wolves, but the wargs could come as well. Everyday she went to each plant, talked the them and told them of her promise to save the sick woman. But the flower in the city would not grow, though it tried its best. It sprouted and withered. Out of the valley, the flower struggled to even sprout. For days she went and prayed to the Green Lady for help."

"The Green Lady?" Bofur asked.

"The Mother," Bilba smiled. "Yavanna. Her prayers were answered. Over the next three days the seed took hold in the soil and sprung up like a weed. It was a massive golden flower that seemed to glow with a light all its own. She picked it and ran all the way back to healers in the city who, astonished by the size the flower had grown, quickly made up a potion. You see it was only meant to be a small flower, but it was nearly the size of my mother's head."

"The woman? Did she live?"

"It took a while for her to heal, but yes. Color returned to her, and she woke up. Every day she grew in strength until finally she was taken home to the north. What happened after, I don't know. I only can assume she's well out there."

Kili smiled. "I'm glad it worked. Your mother must be amazing."

"She was."

"Oh," Kili said, suddenly regretting himself. "She's? I'm sorry."

Bilba just smiled. "It's okay. She died many years ago. Don't let that put a damper on things. She wouldn't want that. She was always cheerful."

"Well, then" Bofur said and raised his glass, though it only contained water. "To Belladonna Baggins."

* * *

That night it was Bilba who sat up late as Thorin slept at her side, but instead of staring at the mountain she stared out into the forest. She tried to find strength in her mother's memory. She could do this, couldn't she? She had come so far, of course she could do this. And if her mother was alive to know, Bilba was sure she'd have been proud. Even her father, though he would have sputtered and turned red, probably would have been secretly proud. She could to cling to that thought to find her courage.

She would enter the mountain. It was just... She wasn't even sure what she was worried about, besides the glaringly obvious. The warnings of the lake man came back to her mind, but they were not the only worries to haunt her. She just couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"You, more than anyone, should be sleeping," Thorin said in a quiet, sleep rough voice. "Lie down."

She shifted down and let herself be pulled into his arms. "I can't sleep."

"I understand." His breath was hot on the back of her neck. "I won't say, 'do not worry,' because right now you should. It would be foolish not to. But if there is anything I can do to ease your mind, even in the slightest, tell me and I will do it."

She pulled his arm tighter around her. "Make me a promise," she said quietly. "If anything goes wrong for me, keep everyone else safe. And when everything is said and done, and you're king, go to the Shire and see my cousin, the Thain. Tell him what happened, and tell him I promised to make you dinner. He'll know... He'll know what to do."

"You are not going to die," he said. "Don't speak that way."

"If," she said. "I said _if_. I have no plans on dying, thank you. Now, make me a promise."

He frowned. "I promise nothing will happen to you."

"That isn't what I said."

He pressed his head to her shoulder. "I refuse to promise that, because you won't die. Now please, go to sleep, and stop making my life difficult."

She huffed. "Excuse me for making your life so hard. I hadn't realized."

"I will go to the Shire, and speak to your cousin," he said. "But, above all else, I would rather it not come to that."

* * *

The clouds were still heavy and dark in the morning, not that Bilba had much of a chance to see them before she was given a heart attack. She was mid-yawn when a raven came down and landed on her head, getting tangled in her hair and squawking like it was being murdered.

"Ow, ow! Get it off!" She flailed her arms and half of the company jumped up to see what the matter was, while the other half were jolted awake by her screaming.

"Calm down!" Thorin said and started pulling the bird from her hair. "Hold still!"

Once the raven was free it fled up Thorin's shoulder as far as he could get from Bilba. He was very panicked and flustered with his feathers in disarray. "Oh, dear. My people saw you coming to the mountain. I was only sent to see what was happening."

"And that involves landing in people's hair, does it!" Bilba snapped and made a grabbing motion towards him.

"I'm sorry," he cawed sadly.

"You speak?" Thorin said. "What is your name?"

"Coräc, sir. If you would please call off your angry dwarrowdam I would be most thankful, sir," the bird said, and tried to hop behind Thorin's head.

"I am not a dwarf!"

"My apologies," he cawed.

Thorin held up a hand to Bilba and gave the bird an amused look. "It has been a long time since I spoke with a raven. Coräc, you say you are called?"

"Yes, sir."

"I wonder if you knew Carc. I knew him as the leader of your people."

"He was my grandfather. He passed away many years ago. My father, Roäc, rules our people now. He has spoken most well of dwarrows," he said.

Bilba spent her time glaring daggers at the bird and trying her best to fix her hair.

"You came to investigate. Explain."

"Ye-yes, sir. We saw your arrival this morning as we flew over. My father wondered if you were dwarrows come to enter the mountain. And now I know, so I should be off." Though his haste was mostly to do with the death stare Bilba was still giving him.

"Ask your father to come. I would like to speak with him, if he will."

"Yes, sir. I will ask." He took his was a small bow, or as best could be done by a raven, and flew away.

Bilba frowned after him. "Dratted bird."

"Don't speak so ill of him," Balin said. "He looks like just a young thing, barely out of his nest. He probably didn't know better."

"Does my head look like a proper place to land?" She wasn't given an answer and promptly stormed off. She stopped next to Fili to ask to borrow his brush again before continuing on, muttering to herself the insufferable natures of birds and certain dwarves.

Thorin watched the horizon. "Do the think the old alliances will still stand," he asked Balin.

"Should do," he said. "It's been a long time, but they haven't forgotten us. We will see what this Roäc has to say."

Dwalin sat near Bilba and looked just as annoyed with the bird as she did. "I hate birds," he muttered.

Balin just snorted. "Just because you were a foolish boy who couldn't close his mouth, now you hate all birds."

"The bugger shat in my mouth!"

Bilba nearly choked, as she brushed out her hair.

"You were throwing rocks at them," Balin defended.

* * *

Roäc came in the evening with his son in tow. He landed on a rock by Thorin while Coräc landed as far from Bilba as he could. Roäc laughed at his son. "I apologize for him," he said. "He has little experience with people. He did not mean to upset you."

Bilba nodded with a sigh. "All is forgiven." She made sure to try and smile at the young raven, but he was still quite flustered and couldn't look at her. He did come a little closer though.

The older raven was long winded in his introductions, but was happy to see them. "I will never forget my father's words to me. Our people remember the kings of old, and while many of my folk are abroad now, we recognize the king's return. Word is already spreading south to them. But I also come with a warning to you, Prince Thorin. Beware the dragon. He has hunted dwarrows since your fall, and will not hesitate to come for you if he knows you are here."

"We know," Bilba said. "That's why I'm here."

"With all respect, you do not look much like a dragon-slayer, madam."

She nodded. "I'm a burglar."

Roäc hopped closer to her. "A burglar you may be, but a dragon-slayer is needed in these parts. Smaug still lives."

The dwarves all turned worried looks to her, but she held her chin high. "All the same, I am the one who is going into the mountain, not the dwarves."

Coräc had inched all the way up to her side by now and looked up at her. "You are very brave, ma'am."

Roäc gave her an appraising nod. "Then take all the care you can, madam."

"Roäc, do you know if this is the secret entrance to the mountain?" Balin asked.

The bird shook his head. "That, I do not know. I was born after the fall of Erebor and know little of the mountain itself. But if it comforts you the thrushes may know. I can seek council with them, if you would like."

Thorin shook his head. "Durin's Day is today. If this is the entrance then we will know in a few hours time."

"I would very much like to stay to witness such an occasion," Roäc said.

Bilba offered her hand to the younger raven who took a hesitant few steps before resting in her palm. "I apologize for shouting at you this morning. You frightened me when you landed on me."

"I did not mean to scared you, ma'am."

"Bilba," she said.

"Miss Bilba," he corrected. "May I ask a question, if it is not too terribly rude of me?"

"I supposed so."

"What are you, if not a dwarrow like your companions?"

She smiled. "I'm a hobbit. Not many people know of us, especially so far to the east. Some call us halflings or Shire folk."

"I've never heard of a hobbit before."

She smiled and stroked his feathers. "Well, I've never met a talking raven."

* * *

The dwarves were antsy until the sun began to set. Bofur played a few tunes on his flute, trying to ease the mood. Ori sketched Coräc sitting on Bilba's shoulder, trying to keep his nervous hands busy. The rest mostly tried to talk about anything but dragons.

As the sun began to vanish behind the trees they worried and watched the stone wall. Bilba's heart was in her throat as she watched the sky, and Thorin's grip on her hand was almost crushing as he watched the mountain.

What if they had been wrong? What if this wasn't the secret door after all?

When the sun was lost, and the moon was peaking through the clouds, Thorin's hand grew weak. "Bre-" his voice nearly failed him. "Break it down!" But their axes shattered, and their hammers fell apart.

Thorin tried to sink to the ground, but Bilba clung to his arm. "No. Don't you dare give up. Just wait. There's still time. Just wait," she whispered.

Balin shook his head. "We've lost the light."

The sun only came in brief shimmers through the trees in the distance. Bilba's jaw clenched. _Come on. Please._ She begged to whoever would listen. She played to the Mother, she called to her husband, Aulë. She called to all of them.

"What did we miss?"

It was so broken Bilba wanted to cry for Thorin. He dropped her hand to open his map. Bilba started to reach out for him when just above them she caught sight of another bird coming to land on the rock that had been her perch the day before. He had a snail in his beak and was dashing it against the rocks.

"The last light of Durin's Day shall-" Thorin said in the same defeated tone, but Bilba cut him off.

"Hush. Thorin, hush. Listen." She pointed up at the little bird. A thrush tapping on the rock. Knocking.

The last glimmer of light passed through the trees, and a beam of moonlight came through the clouds. Together they shone on the stone. Bilba swallowed hard. Thorin was trembling.

"The key," she said quietly, giving Thorin's arm a gentle push. He fumbled for it under his shirt and approached the mountainside. He took a deep breath before he put it in the illuminated keyhole and turned. There was a small click and every heart of the company stood still as Thorin pushed and the stone wall gave way.

As the dwarves hugged their brothers, and Thorin held his nephews, Bilba stood back and smiled, wiping tears from her eyes.

They were home.


	7. Through the Fire and the Rain

Chapter Seven – Through the Fire and the Rain

* * *

"What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"

"The Arkenstone. It is a large, white jewel," Balin said.

She nodded and teetered at the edge of the door.

Balin made a tight noise and patted her on the shoulder. "It... you'll know it when you see it, lass."

She looked at him. "What?"

"There's no shame in not going down there. We'll all understand," he said.

She smiled but shook her head. "Thank you, but I'm going."

"He's right, we will not fault you," Thorin said.

"Don't worry. I've known I would be doing this since the morning I ran out of my door."

"Be careful you don't waken him," Fili warned. "And if he's already awake you come right back."

"I'm not dumb enough to stick around if Smaug is awake." Fili and Kili both looked like frightened boys to her right now. And they were. They were barely grown. And they were her brothers. "Come here," she said and wrapped an arm around each of them. "I'll be okay. I've survived this far." She turned and looked into the tunnel. "So, in I go then?"

They fidgeted, and many stepped towards her intending to follow at least into the tunnel. Thorin would have dared go to the mouth of Smaug's lair, but even he wasn't stupid enough to be seen.

She sighed. "No, you're all staying. I said I would do this, so I expect you all to let me go and do my best." She squared her shoulders, gave her head good shake to clear her thoughts and strode into the darkness.

Coräc nervously flapped his wings. "I-I... Oh, dear. Miss Bilba shouldn't do this. Not alone."

Thorin was already going after her, and in the darkness he caught her by the sleeve. Though she couldn't see him she knew who it was.

"Don't follow me, Thorin. I'll be alright."

He nodded and reached out to touch her face. "I will hold you to that. Swear to me you will come back."

"I told you already, I have no intentions of dying. I'll be back."

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "Be safe, mizim." _Come back to me as you always have_.

She gave him a pat on the cheek. "Whenever am I not?"

* * *

Coräc was hopping from side to side, his feathers ruffled. Roäc was staring at him. His son had always been a fidgety boy. "Dear me, I'm going as well." He hopped up and flew into the tunnel entrance.

Roäc made a shrill noise that died before it reached down to his son. The dwarves bit their tongues. They didn't want shouting to echo down, but they still growled and stamped their feet.

"Stupid boy," Roäc said. "He's scared of large rats, and he thinks he's going to go down to a dragon. He'll be back before he's gone halfway down, mark my words. No need to fret, gentlemen. Your burglar won't be found out because of my foolish son."

As Bilba continued on, it wasn't so dark. It was steadily growing redder and redder. Lighter and lighter.

She didn't shake which surprised her. She supposed over these last months all the fear she had of this moment had slowly drained out of her. Still, she waited at the bottom just within the shadow of the tunnel. She heard the rustle of wings coming up from behind and then settling on her shoulder. "Go back," she whispered. "I will be safer if I am alone. The dragon will see you before he sees me."

"But ma'am," he started.

"Just trust me. It's... it's hobbit magic."

He was uneasy and let himself land on the stone floor, but did not turn back. "I will stay here, ma'am, to watch. If you are captured or worse someone must warn your friends."

"If I'm captured they won't be able to do anything to help." When she tried to shoo him he refused to budge.

Bilba took a deep breath and poked her head out of the end of the tunnel and found herself awed. She had been told a hundred stories of dragon hoards and golden mountains. They had often been her favorites as a child. Some were her grandfather's tales, some were her grandmother's, but many came from her father. Bungo had a great library and read her to sleep with fantastic legends and histories. But in all their tellings, in all their magical words, they never told her anything that could compare to the sight of a real treasure trove. She crouched down and picked up the closest thing to her. It was a large, golden chalice full of coins. It glittered with gems and was carved with images of birds and flowers.

She poured all but one of the small golden coins out of the cup and handed the last one to Coräc. "Take it up and tell them about the treasure. Don't come back."

The raven looked torn but did as she said and flew back up the tunnel.

Bilba turned back to the trove and ventured a step in. And then another. Her breathes were quiet and deep as she slowly made her way into the chamber. Occasionally something would tumble and slide down the hills of gold as she walked. She would cringe and bring her hands up to her head as if the dragon would suddenly appear and grab at her.

"Arkenstone," muttered to herself as she climbed up a particularly high mound of gold. "It'll take me years to find it."

She paused at the top to look around, and her head whipped to the side as she heard the jingle of coins falling. All breath left her and she very slowly crouched down.

Smaug stretched on top of a pile of treasure, purring almost like a large cat, and started to wake. Bilba's hands fiddled about in her pockets as she found her little ring. If ever there was a time or place to use it, it was here. She let herself gaze into the room for a moment longer as Smaug lifted his head. She vanished from the world and took a cautious step away.

Dragons have a keen sense of smell, and even in his dreams he caught a whiff of fresh air and something altogether unfamiliar. It disturbed him and it pulled him from his sleep.

He rose up and Bilba fell back. She was full of a mixture of awe and terror at his size. A massive, red beast.

His voice was like distant thunder.

"Well," he rumbled and looked around the room. "It has been a long time since I have had a thief. I smell you, I hear you... where are you?" On surprisingly light feet he began to pace around the room and Bilba darted underneath him and ran to hide against a pillar. "Show yourself," he said just above a whisper. Something in his voice echoed in her head. "Show yourself. No need to be shy," he crooned. "There is plenty of treasure."

"No," she squeaked. "No, thank you, Smaug the... the Magnificent." She even made a show of bowing that the dragon could not see. He laughed regardless. "I have not come to steal from you. I have only come to look upon your splendor."

He hummed and narrowed in on her voice. She silently moved around the vast room, but no where she could go would she feel she was far enough from him. "Come now, let me see you. Don't be shy. Come into the light." And it echoed. It beat against the walls of her skull. She fought to keep her hands at her sides. She fought not to remove her ring and show herself. Why was she so tempted?

In all the tales she was told as a girl, in all the books she'd read, she never quite learned that dragons were more than teeth and claws and fire. No, they were much more.

Dragons are dangerous. Not just for their power and the inferno in their throats. Dragon speech is dark. It is shadow and chaos, and it haunts the mind. It twists and bends and breaks. It captures. It spins webs around the heart and takes it for its own. The way Smaug moved side to side, the ringing of his voice... It was a kind of magic. A dragon spell.

Dragons can make you do just about anything, make you believe just about everything, if they say it in just the right tone.

"You intrigue me, little thief. You are not a Man, nor an elf. I have eaten enough in my time to know that you could not be them. Nor are you a dwarf, but you have the same earthy smell. You do not need to be afraid of me," he said and gave a toothy grin. "It would be better for you if you were not." He leaned down closer and closer until he was only a few feet from her. "I can smell it on you." He pulled back for a moment and chuckled. "There is something dark about you. Something old. I confess, it draws me much more strongly than your scent, thief." He leaned back down, "Now, let me see you."

As he spoke Bilba felt herself grabbing at her ring. She twisted it, but kept it on.

"Tell me, who are you? You seem to know me. It only seems fair." As he spoke she shook her head and unconsciously tore her ring off. "There you are. What a small thing you are."

She felt as if her heart would beat clear out of her chest.

She instantly found her hand drawing her little sword and the dragon laughed at her. "Have you come to stick me with a sowing needle?" he mocked.

Bilba kept her jaw stiff and slowly backed away, feet slipping occasionally on gold.

"What a funny little thing," he said. He swiped at her with one clawed foot, but not close enough to grab or hurt her, though he could have. It was just to scare her. "Now, who are you? What are you?"

"I..." She was scared blank. Even the idea that she was a hobbit wouldn't come to mind.

"Come now." His breath was hot as steam.

She gripped her sword tight in her hands started backing away again. "St-Sting! They call me the Stinging Fly. A-and the Lucky Number. The One Who Walks Unseen."

"Lovely titles. The last is quite interesting."

He walked one way, and then the next, just inspecting her. For what reason, she did not know. It was completely unnerving. And her panic was rising with each step.

Her hands started shaking, her blade loose in her palms. She knew better. She knew to keep her sword tight in her hands, but she couldn't do it. Her whole body felt weak and it took everything in her not to show it.

Smaug tilted his head right and left as he circled her, altogether like a snake, and all the while Bilba was backing away.

"What's your name, Stinging Fly?"

"I've been called the Web Cutter," she said.

"That is a title."

"My friends call me Underhill."

The dragon growled then. "Titles and titles! Little creature, you'd do best not to anger a dragon. I will burn you alive until your bones are black."

"Bilbo! Bilbo Labingi," she shot out.

The dragon nodded and gave her a toothy grin. "Now we are getting somewhere."

He blew smoke at her. She waved it off and held out her sword towards him. She flung out occasional blows, warning flashes of steel, but she kept a distance too far to strike.

He was playing with her. She could do nothing to him. He was winding her up.

He stepped forward and she took three back. He turned to one side, and she stepped to the other. It was... it was a dance. She took a shaking breath. They taught her how to dance. She was taught jigs in the Shire, but Thorin taught her to waltz with a sword.

She was learning him, and he didn't seem to notice or care.

He led and she followed.

She wasn't a threat. She was his first game in sixty years. And he was quickly growing bored. He whipped his tale around behind her and she tumbled backwards while he laughed. She panicked and stabbed at his tale, but the sword only bounced off of his scales. That though, that was not so funny to him. He shot out a clawed hand and picked her up, her sword falling into the hills of gold.

He took a good look at her, his first close look. "A woman," he said. "Not a princess. What a shame. You'd be more valuable if you were a princess. You barely qualify as food."

No, she was never meant for a sword. That was not her battle.

But she could speak. If she could talk circles around Lobelia, then she could certainly think of something to outwit a dragon.

A waltz of words. It was to be a waltz of words.

She could do that.

If she wanted to live she had better.

She struggled in his grip. "I beg your pardon," she snapped. _Oh, this was a bad idea._ "When is the last time you even saw a princess of the west? My grandfather was Thain of the Shire. His title may not be king, but I am equivalent to any princess!"

It's not like the dragon would know what a Thain was. She wasn't even sure where this plan was going. But, if she knew one thing from the fairy tales her grandfather had told her, it was that dragons valued princesses as much as they did gold. So maybe he just might not crush her alive just yet.

"Never heard of a Shire, but I never venture west of here. Why are you so far east, Shire Princess?"

"Marriage," fell out of her mouth. "To a lord east of here."

"And you enter my mountain to sate curiosity? To look upon my 'splendor,' you say. I don't believe you, _princess_. Where are your guards?" He whipped his tale behind him and sent it through a hill of gold and made a deafening crash.

_Oh, oh_... "I snuck away! Curiosity is a curse. My family is under a fae curse. You must understand these things, Smaug the Great. What good is a princess without a curse? I never heard of any good one without." It terms of fairy tales it was true enough.

The dragon seemed to consider this but then held her closer and took a whiff of her. "The only lords east of here are dwarves. Worthless, they are. They have only iron to their names. Is that why I smell dwarf on you? You're not a dwarf. What are you?" His grip tightened ever so slightly and she tried to pull away as it squeezed too tight to draw a deep breath.

"Sh-Shireling. They call us Shirelings."

When he growled it rattled her bones. "They shall come with swords and spears and I will eat them all. Where are the dwarves!?"

* * *

The crash of gold was heard as far as the surface. Ori nearly jumped out of his skin. "What was that? An earthquake?"

Balin drew a tight breath. "That, my lad, was a dragon."

Several of the dwarves were already drawing their weapons and moving to the door when Thorin held up a hand. "Give her more time."

What? Balin shot him a look. "More time to what? To be killed?"

He took a breath to steady himself. "I am responsible for twelve other lives as well. We give her more time."

Dwalin shoved past him. "I'll let the lass know the one she chose to give herself to is a coward. And I'll let you know right now, if you act like this again I'll break your nose."

Thorin grabbed him by the back of the collar. "If you insinuate I'm a coward again, I will break more than your nose. I'm doing this because she told me to. If something goes wrong, I keep the rest of this company out of danger."

"And you're just going to listen to everything she says even if it gets her killed? Is she in charge now? I signed up for some danger. Come on, lads!"

* * *

Bilba coughed. "I can't breathe." She beat against his hand but he didn't loosen his grip. "In the town. I left them behind. They would never let me go otherwise."

Satisfied, he loosen his grip marginally. Nothing riled him up quite like dwarves.

"Why is it you have come then, princess, if not to steal? I don't believe your tripe. Are you spying for them?" He tightened his grip again, this time even more so. "Is that why they sent you, One Who Walks Unseen?"

This was all a mistake. She couldn't outwit a dragon. She wasn't a burglar.

She wasn't a Took.

"Truely, I do not lie, oh Smaug the Mighty and Tremendous," her voice shook and cracked. She had tears in her eyes. "I have only come to see if the old tales were true." This was it. She was going to die. "I wanted to know if you were as spectacular as the stories and songs said. I did not believe them. Oh, _please_," she begged in broken tones.

He put her down roughly on a pile of gold and rose up. He stood back and spread his wings to their full breadth. "Well, thief, do you now? Your dwarves will come for you, and I will crush them. I will obliterate them. And I will take you to their hills, and I will kill the iron dwarves as well while you watch!"

Bilba's hand flew to her pocket, and past her sobs she managed, "You are truly a creature of legend!" Her eyes immediately found an odd patch on his scales. It stood out black against the gold of his underbelly. There was a bare spot on his chest, just below his heart. "Y-You outshine all of the old tales. I will have to tell the world of your majesty, surly."

She took a breath then and vanished, grabbed her sword from the floor and fled across the hall. But she made mistakes of her own. It was purely her nerves. She was so shaken she didn't realize she'd done it. She dared to laugh at Smaug.

She was barely into the tunnel as he roared behind her, took a breath and sent fire after her heels. The dwarves hastened their descent at the sight of the light, but Bilba barreled into Thorin. "Go! Go! Go!" she pushed him back. "Run, you idiots!" And they fled out of the door as the fire whipped around their feet. And she... she was on fire. "Put me out!"

Thorin threw his coat over her smothered her to his chest.

Smaug cursed how small the tunnel was.

"Perhaps I should give your dwarves a visit, _princess_," he growled and fire shot out of the tunnel again. "And when I have eaten them, and burned those miserable lake men who would dare house them, I shall return for you!"

He tore around the corner sending quakes and booms far into the land around the mountain.

* * *

Bilba struggled away from Thorin and started shaking him by the shoulders. "He's going to destroy the town! Where is that bird?" She whirled around, her hands pulling at her hair. "Where is that stupid talking bird!?"

"I am a raven, ma'am!" Coräc said, but landed on Thorin's shoulder all the same.

"You have to go to Laketown. Find the captain. Bard! Bard was his name! There's a weak spot. There's a bare spot on Smaug's chest on the left, just below his heart! Go! Go! You have to warn them! How fast can you fly? Could you out fly a dragon?"

"You do me a disservice, ma'am, if you think a scaly beast is faster than I!"

"I'll build you the biggest golden bird house to ever exist if you just go!"

He gave a shrill cry and sped away as the crashing in the mountain grew louder and louder.

"Oh, gods, it's all my fault! They're all going to die! I just had to open my big mouth. I could have made up any lie, but no! In the lake town, I said!" she yelled at herself and paced around the ledge. "What are we going to do?"

Thorin grabbed her by the arms and held her still.

But at that moment a tremendous sound came as the front gates of Erebor were thrown off of their hinges and were sent several hundred feet across the ground. The roar that Smaug let loose was nothing like the one in the mountain. It had the dwarves and Bilba on their knees covering their ears. Thorin grabbed Bilba by the shoulder and pulled. Dwalin was up and shoving Ori. Each of the dwarves were grabbing at their brother's and running.

"Inside! Get inside!"

It was not a lie that a dragon's wings were a hurricane. Smaug circled around the mountain cursing her. "I don't think I shall wait, _princess_. True or not, you do not get the pleasure of mocking me!"

Fire scorched the stone before he threw himself into the mountainside.

"It's going to collapse. Move! Move!"

And they sprinted down the tunnel, Roäc flying just over their heads, and they all fell into the dark of mountain.

* * *

"Is everyone okay?" Bofur asked as he pulled himself from the pile of dwarves at the bottom of the tunnel. Most just groaned.

They pulled themselves apart and got to their feet. The tunnel had caved in behind them. Bilba was already pulling away from the group and pacing across the room, talking to herself. "What have I done? What are we going to do? Oh, I should never gone out of my door." She put her hands on her knees and couldn't quite catch her breath. "We're all going to die. I'm going to die in this stupid mountain."

"We need to arm ourselves," Thorin said and started into the hall, scaling over gold with half of the company at his heels.

Bofur hovered around her. "You okay, lass?"

"No."

And in what was likely not her proudest moment, much like the first night she met the company, she fainted.

When she came too a short while later her head was in someone's lap and she scrambled to sit up. "It's okay, mizim. Be still." Thorin put a hand on her shoulder, but she just shook her head and sat forward.

"You're already using gross pet names," Fili threw up his hands. "I should have stayed over there."

Kili laughed and held his hand out after his brother. "What did I tell you? Pay up!"

Fili grimaced and stuck his hand in the nearest pile of gold and started to pelt his brother with coins.

Bilba turned to Thorin. "This isn't any time to be playing. Thorin, the dragon is going to the town. He'll burn them into the lake. They don't stand a chance! We have to do something."

He put a hand on either shoulder. "Right now you are going to breathe."

"But!" Tears were starting to streak down her face.

"We are too far from Esgaroth. There is nothing we can do. We trust that Coräc gets your message there in time, and we arm ourselves. You did well. You found his weak point."

"They'll all die..." she said and it was barely more than a whisper. He reached out to hold her, but she pushed herself up to her feet and wrapped her arms around herself. "Arm ourselves," she muttered quietly. Her knees felt like jelly. "I can't even hold a sword, how am I supposed to arm myself."

Thorin froze as he rose behind her. It was the first chance he'd really had to actually look at her back since she'd come out of the tunnel, her coat on fire. No longer adrenaline fueled, his heart skipped a beat. "Bilba, your hair."

She looked over her shoulder at him and furrowed her brow. "What?"

"It's burned," he said and walked over to her and very carefully touched it. Black ends fell away like curls of dust.

She sat down on a gilded chest and pulled her hair over her shoulder to look at it. A few inches were burned away. She brushed and pulled at it with her fingers until the scorched ends were mostly gone. "It's not so bad," she said. "It's better than being dead." Bilba let her hands fall into her lap, and she didn't bother to hide that she was trembling. "He could have crushed me. He could have snapped me in half." She turned frightened eyes to Thorin. "He... he had me in his hand and he was going to..." She ran her hands over her eyes and back through her hair. "I couldn't breathe." Thorin sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She hissed and pushed him back. "Not so tight."

"I'm sorry." He held her hands instead. "You're hurt. You need to let Oin look at you."

She swallowed hard. "Right now I'll be fine. If Smaug comes back..."

"If Smaug comes back you are not going to be here. I'm going to take you to another part of the mountain."

She pulled her hands away. "No."

His face was tight, but he said nothing. He would take away if had to be done kicking and screaming, but he would prefer it otherwise. "You're getting looked at. Now."

* * *

Oin looked at her ribs and prodded her back and arms. He rubbed a salve on the backs of her legs where the fire touched her heels.

"You'll be sore," he said. "Maybe for a few days. I don't think you'll bruise much more than yellow," he said as he was mixing up some liquid. "You were very lucky."

Thorin stood against a wall, arms crossed and eyes wandering over the gold. He had to take her somewhere safe. It had to be done. He knew she was not going to like him for it.

Oin held out the cup for Bilba. "You drink this and you'll be feeling better soon enough."

It smelled familiar. Looked familiar. She looked at Oin hard. "What is it?"

"It's a sleeping draught. You need one."

"No!"

"You're hurt, and you need to rest. You look damn near manic. I'm the doctor here."

"There is a dragon out there!" she shouted. "Why does every one of you seem to think I can't handle myself? Have I not proven myself yet?"

Thorin looked at her. "Of course you have. Time and time again, but this one time you need to let us protect you as best we can."

She glared at him.

"Please."

Bilba frowned. "As much as my father tried to tell me that as a child, please is not a magic word."

He sighed. "Ghivashel, will you just do this one thing for me?"

"Why?"

"Because I am scared," he admitted. "Because Smaug has already had his hands on you once. He has already sworn to come back for you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Fine," she said tightly and snatched the cup from Oin. "And this will make you fight easier, knowing I'm asleep in some dark corner?"

"It will."

She looked at the cup in her hands. It tasted like one of Bofur's sweaty boots. She pinched her nose and drank it anyway. "Fine," she said more softly and less like poison. "Fine."

As soon as it was down Thorin had an arm around her shoulders. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, I don't plan to put you in a dark corner. I'm curious about how much of the mountain has survived," he said as they left through a dim hall. Every step made her tired, and every step saw the destruction grow less and less. "I'm surprised I remember it so well," he said quietly. "I remember how the air should move. And remember how it should smell, even though it doesn't smell that way anymore."

"Give it time," she said but there wasn't much hope behind her voice now. It was still edged with anger.

When they passed skeletons she had look away and cover her mouth.

"We'll give them all a proper burial once we've reclaimed Erebor," he said.

She nodded quietly to that.

"Did you see the Arkenstone?" he asked.

"No... I didn't have much of a chance to look really," she said stiffly.

"Sorry. I had to ask."

"I know. It's fine."

"What happened with Smaug?"

She clenched her eyes shut tight for a moment. "Like I said, he grabbed me and I thought he would crush me. I really don't want to talk about it right now of that's okay." She wrapped her arms around herself again.

He wanted to stop and hold and take all her pains away and all her bad memories, but nothing could ever erase what had happened to her. No one forgot a dragon. "Of course. If you ever want to I'll listen."

"I know. I know, I just don't want to think about it. Can we talk about something else, please? Is Erebor what you were expecting?"

As he went on he knew she wasn't listening, and he hardly paid any mind to what he was saying. It was just to ease her mind, just to fill the dead air. They passed many halls and rooms and Thorin pointed out what they had been long ago. They went up some stairs into a hall that looked untouched by everything but time. There were moth eaten banners and inches of dust, but under it she could see what could be glittering floors and patterns on the walls. Thorin paused at another set of stairs and took a breath.

He smiled at Bilba before they continued up, and she had to force back a yawn. Her whole body was heavy with sleep.

There were sets of doors up and down the next hall. Some were still thrown open, things knocked over in the rush to flee the mountain. As they neared the end Thorin stepped away from Bilba and ran his fingers along the doors. "Frerin's," he said. He pointed across the hall. "And Dis'."

"These are," she looked around. "They were your rooms."

He looked at the end of the hall at a grand set of doors and nodded. "My parents stayed at the end, and I stayed in the rooms on the right."

Bilba started walking while Thorin lingered behind. The door knobs were coated in dust. When he didn't step up she cautiously turned the knob herself and pushed the door open. She looked back at him and held the door open. "You didn't bring me up here to stand outside," she said. She didn't smile, though there was a part of her that wanted to. There was part of her that wanted to be happy right now, but she couldn't. She waited at the door until he stepped in and she followed him.

To say it was beautiful would be an understatement.

But to say it was home? Well, Thorin would be lying if he said that. It was a taste of home. It was something that hadn't been his in over one hundred and seventy years.

It would be home again someday, but not today.

While Bilba wandered into and out of different doors, Thorin went to his old bedroom. Every movement was something methodical. He took the top most blankets from his bed and shook out the dust before putting them back. He wiped dust from a lamp and nearly tried to light it before noticing there was no oil. He started to reach into a drawer where he knew he used to keep more, but stopped.

Bilba stood in the doorway, her hand covering another yawn. "You have a harp," she said.

"Yes. I play the harp."

She nearly laughed, but only shook her head with a slight smile. She sat down on the edge of his bed. "It's not very..." she trailed off, unsure how to say it.

"What?"

"Dwarvish? It's very delicate."

Thorin laughed and took a seat beside her. "I didn't chose it. My grandfather insisted, but I have no idea why."

She nodded quietly and crossed her arms, trying her best not to just lie down and fall asleep.

"You're tired," he said and gave her a pointed look.

She frowned at him before she reached up and twisted a hand into his hair to pull him slightly closer so she could glare at him properly. "This is stupid, Thorin."

"It was for your own good," he said. "Trust me, you'll be safer up here."

"I'll be asleep while a dragon is killing you all. You call that safe?" It was becoming a battle to keep her eyes open.

"I call it a better option than seeing him kill you." He had to look away from her glare, but she let go of his hair with a sigh. "We failed to kill Smaug once. You've seen the bones of my kin. They are my failure. And so too will be the Men of the Lake. I should have gone with you and killed the beast or died trying. It is my job to slay him. It is my place to protect my people. If the dragon returns you will be hidden and you will have the chance to sneak away. I won't let you get hurt. I won't fail again."

"You are unbelievably selfish, you know that? What am I supposed to do then? Lie here and sleep while I fail at what I'm supposed to do? If any of you die, and I could have helped, what do you think that'll do to me? I love you, you insufferable oaf. What do you think it's going to do to me if you die?" Her words were starting to come out like mush and she began to slump on Thorin's shoulder.

He gently laid her down and pulled the blankets up around her. "You'll live and you'll cope."

Thorin shut the doors and lingered outside. A part of him wanted to lock it, bar it, something. But he didn't. Had he stood and thought on it much longer though... he likely would have. And he knew that was wrong... but... Dwalin and Balin were coming up the hall as he stood there and he stopped thinking about it.

"Is this where you snuck off too?" Dwalin asked.

"I didn't sneak anywhere," he said, finally turning away and walking to them. "We need to block the front gates. Use anything we have. I want the main hall fortified and I want everyone armored and well armed."

"Well ahead of you," Balin said. "I've already got the boys working on the gates. Should be done by morning."

Dwalin huffed. "That's assuming we have until morning."

"I sent Roäc east," Balin said. "With a letter to Dain. We've made it this far, maybe he'll send us an army now."

Dwalin looked over his shoulder before they left the hall. "She wanted to stay and fight," he said. "You should have let her stay."

"If you had the choice would you let Ori stay and fight."

"No," Dwalin said without hesitation. "But I don't have the choice, and I'm not sure you should have either."

* * *

When she woke it was several hours later and she was alone. "I have half a mind to hit him," she said as she got up and wrapped the blankets around herself. She padded through the rooms and out into the halls. She was fairly certain she could find her way back down to the treasury.

She stopped at a split in the hall. The dwarves would be to the left, if she remembered correctly. She turned right. She just wasn't in the mood for dwarves right now.

She didn't go far before she found herself out on a balcony overlooking the front of the mountain and back down into the main hall. It was stacked with stones and wood, but no one was around. Had it been that way before? No, she was certain it hadn't.

On the balcony were broken pieces of stone and old banners, faded and torn, tied up around fallen rocks and pillars. She sat down close to the edge and looked out into the darkness, out towards the Long Lake.

Where was the dragon?

Shouldn't there be fire? Smoke?

It was dark. Black. It was after dawn and the sun had yet to rise. She looked for light on the water and saw none. She saw nothing but the black of the storm clouds.

A loud crack split the air, and a flash of lightning came from the north. Then another.

Then the skies opened up and the rain came down.

* * *

Coräc was soaked to the bone, and he was so stressed we was certain his feathers were going to start falling out mid-flight. Every time the thunder cracked he shrieked.

He wasn't sure what possessed him to try out-flying Smaug. He wasn't sure quite how he'd done it. He came around the side of Erebor and nearly dropped from the air. The door was gone, broken and caved in.

He spoke curses in the language of birds and flew around the mountain. Even in the dark he had sharp eyes. He could see someone over what had been the main gates.

"Miss Bilba!" he called out as he recognized her and flew closer.

She rose her head, barely hearing her name over the sound of the thunderstorm. The young raven flew right up into her face before she even saw him. "Coräc!"

"Ma'am," he said as he landed on her arm and was promptly covered up in her blanket.

"You're sopping wet. Be still. There," she said, patting him dry. "You're alive! I was so worried. What happened?"

"As I was trying to say before you began to smother me," he said wiggling free of the blanket. "The dragon is dead."

"Wh-what?"

"I saw him fall with my own eyes," he said. "Bard shot him through the heart and he fell into the lake."

"He's dead?" she said and started to rise and stumble backwards. "He's dead!" She turned and leaned over the balcony and shouted into the main hall. "Thorin! Fili! Kili! Someone must hear me! Bofur! Dwalin! _Hey_!"

She heard them running before she saw them. Thirteen dwarves came barreling into the room in full armor with swords and axes drawn.

"Smaug is dead!"


End file.
